Pure Morning
by xX-Misty
Summary: Sequel to No Regrets; Life has been settled and happy for all those at Fenchurch East for the last month and life is gong well but a new member of staff puts a cat amongst the pigeons. Jim Keats may have finally ousted the devil from his soul but how can the team forgive and forget when he'd damn near destroyed every last one of them at some point or another? Now complete!
1. Prologue: Starting in the Light

**Prologue**

The smooth hand that slid over Gene's shoulder wore dark purple nail polish and had a delicate beaded bracelet around its wrist. His gaze travelled up the arm attached to it which wore a smart but fashionable purple jacket and led, eventually, to the smiling face of Alex. She brushed back one side of her Posh Spice bob and smiled at Gene's reflection in the mirror.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"I think you and DC Fell are auditioning for a tribute band," Gene said gruffly but there was a growing bulge in his trousers that betrayed his real thoughts on her new haircut.

"Thought so," she said with a smirk, slapping a newspaper into his hand, "here. Cover yourself up."

Gene mumbled and grumbled as he used the newspaper to give him a little dignity and glanced at the date atop the front page. Autumn was well underway now. Four weeks had passed since the fateful day that Jason Redlake had scaled a building in pursuit of Layton, with Keats and Simon both following in his footsteps. There had been shock in the aftermath of the whole affair, even moreso after Redlake met such an _unfortunate_ end. As a replacement was sought there had been some rumours of a promotion for Fletcher but he knew where he was happy and, somewhat to Gene's relief, he decided to stay where he was.

" _Christ almighty, the last thing I need is some shiny new super waltzing in and setting me on the straight and narrow,"_ Gene had commented at the time.

Fletcher had taken that as a compliment, or at least as close to one as he was going to get.

Things had settled down somewhat and Alex and Gene had continued to enjoy married life, except on tuesdays when a yellow fiat would turn up outside and whisk Alex away for an evening of what Gene liked to think of as ' _top-shelf sapphic delights'_ , leaving him an evening alone to enjoy his new, secret pastime of receiving an occasional long distance phone call from a wanted man calling from somewhere in the Med, wishing to catch up on the English football results from someone in the know. Plenty of newlyweds met another couple and swapped addresses whilst on honeymoon, Gene knew that as a fact. Most of those couples weren't Nick Nailer and Victoria Stone though.

"What's with the suit?" Gene asked Alex as she dusted down her lapels, "is it Malcolm fancy Dress day?"

"It's from Victoria Beckham's new collection," Alex told him, "so new it's not out until next year," she gave Gene a sly smile, "Got to love the anachronisms in this world."

"Anachronisms?" Gene frowned, "that a new kind of watch?"

" _Ha ha,"_ Alex rolled her eyes as she doused herself in perfume, "no, Superintendent Fletcher says we have some newbies starting today so I wanted to make a good impression."

"They'll take one look at all the Spice Girls, think they're in the Top of the Pops studio, turn around and flipping leave," Gene said gruffly but he caught Alex staring smugly at the bulge in his trousers that was going nowhere.

"Not all of them will turn and leave," she said, raising an eyebrow.

Gene growled a little.

"Well if you're going to turn from being me posh bird into posh _spice_ then you can come and spice up me life at lunchtime," he walked past and held the door open for Alex, "in the stationery cupboard."

Alex grinned and left the room, preparing for another day at work. She and Gene had been through so much and yet the humour and banter never died down. It was the two of them against the world. Nothing could cast a shadow over that sunshine.

~xXx~

"Robin... _Robin!"_ Kim rolled her eyes, tutted crossly and leaned against the front door, "Rob, we're going to be late!" She waited for a few moments and heard the sound of the toilet flushing. "Dear _god_ , Rob, what are you _doing_ in there?!"

A rather green and exhausted Robin emerged from the bathroom, looking somewhat embarrassed.

"Just needed to pee," he mumbled, grabbing his eyeliner and stepping to the hall mirror.

"For half an hour?!" Kim asked, amused.

" _Several times,_ OK?!" Robin mumbled through gritted teeth as he started applying make-up. He saw Kim grinning out of the corner of his eye. "What?"

Kim smiled.

"Nothing."

"What?"

Kim tried not to laugh.

"You're looking a little green, that's all," she said and Robin blushed. "Oh, now you've added red! You could be the mascot for the fabled Rainbow Brigade!"

"I felt a little queasy, that's all!" Robin protested.

"Rob, it's OK," Kim said, a little more sympathetically, "I heard you throwing up."

Robin froze for a moment then turned around slowly.

"Must have had a bad tin of beans last night," he blushed.

"Do you have morning sickness again?" Kim asked gently and Robin scowled.

"No," he lied.

Kim glanced at his surprisingly dishevelled appearance.

"Why are your shoes half on?" she asked.

"I couldn't get my swollen ankles in them," Robin mumbled as he put down the eyeliner and reached for a pale lip gloss.

"And your belt?" she coughed, glancing to his undone trousers.

Robin looked at her in alarm.

"No reason," he mumbled.

"not having any trouble doing them up then?" she asked awkwardly, only to find Robin's reaction hilarious as he grabbed for the belt and tried to fasten it.

"N _o!"_

"OK, OK, just asking!" Kim held her hands up as though surrendering as she tried not to giggle but a few laughs spilled out as she watched him trying to hold in his stomach to no avail. "Don't they fi-"

"Belt's shrunk," Robin cried, taking it out the loops of his trousers and throwing it to the floor.

"Robin," Kim tried hard to keep a straight face as Robin's cheeks burned more brightly, "Rob..." she placed her hands on his arms and looked at him seriously, "Rob... it's OK," She couldn't fight the smile that spread across her face, "you're about a hundred times more pregnant than I am. That's OK." she giggled a little. "It seems fitting somehow."

Robin blushed harder but a little smile crept over his face as he looked down.

"You... don't mind that I'm hogging all the attention?" he asked shyly.

Kim smiled.

"Not really," she said softly, "...although you _could_ share all the goodies you make the others bring you back from Latte Land with me from time to time."

"Yeah," Robin felt a little guilty about hoarding them, "sorry." He looked up and caught Kim's eye. Her smile was making his heart turn cartwheels. How long had they been together now? Two... three years? It was so hard to work it out over different worlds and times. However long it had been, one thing was for certain – the honeymoon never seemed to end. "Hey," he said quietly, "I don't have the monopoly on this pregnancy, you know." He gently ran his fingers down Kim's curving belly and in an instant she turned redder than Robin was. Her cheeks burned but a soft smile spread across her face and she looked down, watching his hand grace her little bump.

"Then maybe you should share some of those cookies you've got stashed in your bag?" she commented and Robin's expression fell.

"Maybe I should hide them better so you don't know I have secret cookies," he mused, making her laugh but a moment later his expression grew urgent.

"What?" Kim asked.

"Sorry," Robin's feet almost tripped over each other as he high-tailed down the hallway, _"need to pee again..."_

"Oh for -" Kim sighed and rolled her eyes, but her smile couldn't be hidden. She watched him close the bathroom door behind him, then turned to face herself in the mirror. She ran a hand through her hair and checked to make sure there were no crumbs on her face, then shyly she turned to one side and smoothed down her shirt to see her stomach curving outward. Her cheeks felt warm again but a broad smile spread across her face. After everything she and Robin had been through this was their time to be happy. Nothing and nobody could get in their way.

~xXx~

" _Hey babe!"_

Marci's eyes sparkled as soon as she heard the voice on the line.

" _Shaz!"_ she beamed. There was a thump in her chest as her heart started to speed up. "Hi! What are you..." she hesitated, not really wanting to say the words she was about to say. She was about to ask Shaz what she was calling her for when it wasn't so long ago they were calling each other all times of the day and night. Her brief spell off the rails had damn near seen the complete end to their relationship. Things hadn't been the same between them since that fateful night; the one in which Shaz had found her in a state and her mind far from her own after sneaking some 'evidence' away from the station for her own personal use. That night had terrified her in so many ways. She'd lost herself so completely that she'd almost lost those closest to her as well, not to mention her job. She was fighting hard to overcome her addiction and her life was getting back on track, but things with Shaz had never quite managed to return to the way they were.

"I was just wondering..." Shaz's voice broke through Marci's thoughts, "if you were doing anything? I mean, later?"

"Tonight?" Marci could hardly believe what that sounded like. "Are... you asking me out?"

Shaz seemed to giggle nervously.

"That's what you _do_ when you're going out with someone, yeah?"

Marci bit her lip, trying not to smile too much.

"So we're..." she coughed, " _still going out then?"_

Shaz hesitated. She seemed reluctant to answer, not because the answer was anything other than yes but because she didn't want to think about how close Marci had come to self-destruction.

"Depends if you're doing anything later?" she said with a nervous giggle.

Marci leaned back against the cabinet, regarding her reflection in the mirror. Her usual animal print top had been replaced with a sophisticated blouse and her short skirt and fishnets swapped for a smart pair of pants for the day.

"I _am,_ actually," she said, "celebrating."

"Celebrating?" Shaz repeated.

"Hopefully with you," Marci smiled.

She could almost hear Shaz smiling back.

"But what are we celebrating?" she asked and Marci stood up straight, staring at her reflection.

"You are speaking to the new _DS Marcia Fell_ , designated public relations and publicity officer under the responsibility of the Hi-Tech crimes department!"

"What? When did this happen?" Shaz cried, "Marci, that's _wonderful!"_

"Jake doesn't think so," Marci stuck her tongue out, even though Shaz couldn't see, "Now I'm the same rank as he is _and_ I get my own free camera!"

"Well look who made good!" Shaz giggled, "when did this happen?"

"The super talked to me about it when he asked me to cover some of DCI Shoebury's cases while he was away," Marci explained, "he said if I did well there was a permanent position in it for me."

"Well done you!" Shaz cheered, "in that case we're definitely on for that drink."

"Oh, it's a drink we're going for, is it?" asked Marci.

"Maybe something more," said Shaz and Marci beamed.

"I'll bring my new camera," she said and Shaz laughed on the line.

"Listen, babe, I've got to go or I'll be late in to work," she began, "but I'll see you at lunch. Or... do you want a lift in?"

Marci sighed with disappointment.

"I wish I could, babe," she said, "got to go to some presentation this morning. Let the local press know who I am. Got me dressed up like a toff for it. Bought me some things from the Victoria Beckham collection for it," she frowned suddenly, a strange fuzzy feeling clouding her mind. "Funny... I didn't think she'd gotten married yet..." she felt suddenly a little queasy, "or released a fashion collection..."

"Marci? Babe?" Shaz's voice sounded concerned as Marci fell quiet, "everything OK?"

Marci took a moment to shake herself from the strange feeling she had right then. She blinked a few times and cleared her throat before she continued,

"Oh... yeah. Yes, sorry, babe. Must just be feeling pangs of nerves."

"You'll be fine, promise," Shaz told her and Marci smiled again. Shaz's voice made her feel more at ease. "I'll see you lunchtime then, yeah? Buy you a round of sprouts."

"I hope to god you're joking," Marci gagged as Shaz laughed.

"See you later then. Love you."

"Love you too," Marci smiled as she and Shaz hung up the phone just a moment before it rang again and she jumped a mile. "Oh god, who now?" she tapped her foot, worrying about being late for her presentation, "hello?"

" _Marci!"_

Marci smiled and leaned back against the counter again.

"Jake, hi!"

"Just seeing how you are," he told her, "big morning and all that."

"I'm fine," she sighed, "few nerves. Nothing I can't handle."

"Sure you'll be fine after a cup of tea," Jake told her.

"Only of the tea happens to be eighty-percent proof," Marci told him and he laughed.

"I'm sure the Guv will have a little something alcoholic on hand," he told her and she shook her head, even though Jake couldn't see her.

"He won't be there," she told him, "the Super wants to keep him as far away as possible. Said the last time DCI Hunt met the press three of them ended up in casualty and an other one had post traumatic stress disorder."

Jake laughed softly on the phone.

"Alright, then I'll meet you afterwards and you can tell me how it went," he said.

"Oh..." Marci bit her lip, "I'm meeting Shaz for lunch," she said.

Jake hesitated.

"Oh."

Marci felt a little guilty, even though she wasn't sure why

"Yeah... that is OK, isn't it?" she asked, not even sure why she was asking permission.

"Yes... I suppose..." Jake seemed awkward suddenly and Marci wasn't sure why.

"You.. have you two fallen out or something?" Marci asked and Jake spluttered on the line.

"Me? No... god no," he said, "no, not at all."

"Why do you sound so... funny about it then?" Marci asked and Jake laughed nervously.

"I wasn't..." he lied, "I just... knew you hadn't been seeing as much of her lately. That's all. Didn't know how things were between the two of you, that's all."

"They're... fine," Marci cleared her throat, "or at least I think they will be."

"Good," Jake didn't sound convinced of that, "that's... that's good to know,."

Marci hesitated.

"Jake?" she said quietly, "is something wrong?"

Jake seemed to hesitate a moment too long for her to accept his denial.

"Nothing's wrong, Marci. Honestly. I'm just not fully awake yet, that's all. You know how it is. Monday morning and all that."

Marci smiled a little nervously.

"Yeah," she said quietly, "if you're sure?"

"I'm sure," Jake told her, "I'll see you later, anyway."

Marci closed her eyes.

"OK, Jake," she said, "see you when I get back." she paused, hoping he would say something but he stayed quiet. "Bye, Jake."

"Bye, Marci."

She felt a little weird as she hung up, but she couldn't worry about it for long. She had to get going before she found herself late for her first day in her new role. Her life was moving forward and nothing was going to pull her back.

~xXx~

James's hands shook as he tried for the fourth time to tie his tie. He still wasn't happy with the knot. _Or_ with the presses in his trousers. _Or_ with his hair. _Or_ the new glasses he'd picked out to replace his broken ones. _Or_ with the way his palms were sweating before he'd even gone anywhere.

"Are you ready?"

James turned around and the sight of Simon was the first 'right' thing he'd seen all morning. A warm feeling spread across his chest like a fever and he felt himself blushing. A half smile twitched onto his face as he swept his hand through his hair anxiously.

"Sort of," he said, "Kind of." he paused, "No." He gave a growl of frustration, "it's this tie, I can't... I've forgotten how..." he calmed down a little as Simon came closer to him, Simon's mere presence soothing him near completely. Simon's fingers took the silk expertly and tied a smart, clean knot in his tie. " _Thank you,"_ he whispered and found himself lost in Simon's bright blue eyes.

"James, are you sure you're ready for this?" he asked softly.

"Yes. No," James shook his head, "I mean, ready?" he shook his head,"I don't think I can _ever_ be ready. But," he took a deep breath and looked Simon in the eye, "I can do it. I _can_. As long as I'm with you."

Simon smiled, even though his own nerves shone through.

"I'm going nowhere," he said. He held out his hand and James slowly placed his own in Simon's palm. "Let's go then."

James nodded slowly, took a deep breath and took his first step towards the door. He felt shaky from anxiety but if Simon was beside him he could cope with this. he could cope with anything.

"OK," he said, nodding slowly. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and took his first step forwards, towards the door, towards a new phase of his life and towards the scariest of all possible days. He'd never felt so scared, but he knew he wasn't by himself. The hand holding his own gave him the strength to face a fresh start.

" _Come on,"_ Simon whispered, " _let's go shake up some worlds."_

 _ **~xXx~**_

 _ **A/N: For the first time in quite some time I have to offer a disclaimer that I've given so many times before. I don't own Ashes to Ashes. I do however own some characters who mean the absolute world to me and I am proud to be continuing their stories, their lives. Thank you to anyone who is following this journey still. This story follows on from No Regrets and the rest of the Real Cool World series.**_

 _ **This fic is going to be fairly short in comparison to many but I felt it needed to be written as a kind of transition into a new phase of writing and I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I think I'll enjoy writing it. Updates will be as often as my health allows – thank you for your patience and understanding, and thank you for reading. Your reviews, messages and support means so much!**_

 _ **This story is dedicated to my beautiful moirspritmaterail, the Robin to my Kim. I love you, Lucy xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**_


	2. Chapter 1: Veil of Darkness

**Chapter 1**

"So where are they then?" Alex asked as she placed a tray of lattes on Gene's desk.

"In me kecks," Gene said, crossing his feet up on the desk.

"I mean the newbies," Alex told him, pushing his feet of the desk and dropping a couple of bags of cookies in their place, "I thought I might get to say hello before you send them off to casualty with filing cabinet wounds."

Gene sighed and swiped up one of the bags.

"No idea, Bols," he sighed, "no paperwork, no new faces, no dents in me filing cabinet. Last to hear anything around here these days." He brushed it off but Alex could tell it bothered him more than he was admitting.

"I'm sure Fletcher will bring them along soon," Alex told him, "and _those_ -" she swiped the cookies from his hand, "aren't for you."

Gene stared at the empty space in the air before him where a bag of temptation had sat moments earlier and did a double take.

"You putting me on a diet?" he blinked in disbelief, "only I'm on a promise, if you remember, and I need to keep me strength up. Holding you against the wall for five minutes burns up a day's worth of calories, Missus."

"No, I just -" Alex began as the door flew open and Kim breezed through "-ahh, right on cue."

"I thought I heard food," Kim said matter-of-factly.

"Heaven forbid a crumb evades your ten-foot squared gob," Gene scowled, "can't you knock?"

"Not when the door's already open," Kim told him.

"That door was not open."

Kim smiled smugly.

"It was when I got within three feet of it," she told him and Gene's scowl deepened.

"Remember whose name is on that door, Metal Mickey," he said and watched in horror as Alex handed Kim a bag of cookies, _"Oi!_ It's not Tuesday! _You_ don't need that energy!"

"I'm eating for two," Kim told him smugly, smiling at Alex as she opened the bag and whipped out a cookie, "thanks, ma'am."

Gene rolled his eyes and crossed his arms angrily.

"Christ almighty, Stringer, I'm not listening to your stomach moaning twice as loud for the next nine months," he cried, watching Kim's expression darken as she glowered in his direction.

"No," Alex came to her rescue, "you're not. That's what the cookies are here to prevent."

"Two bags?" Kim noticed the second sitting on the desk. She reached for it greedily but Alex slapped her hand away.

"That's not for you," she said and Gene's eyes lit up.

"Looks like _I'll_ be eating for two an' all," he said smugly but to his horror Alex snatched up the bag.

"Nor for you," she said, " _three, two, one..."_

The door flew open a second time and Robin stumbled through.

"Are there cookies in here?!" he cried, somewhat out of breath from running down the corridor.

" _Bolly!" G_ ene thumped his fist on the desk, "why are you feeding the five thousand and ignoring your poor, starving better half? I'm wasting away here!"

"I'm sure the nice lady on the canteen will be able to whip you up a plate of something green," Alex smiled, somewhat enjoying the amused looks on Robin and Kim's faces as they both tucked into the cookies. She leaned closer to Gene and appeased him with a whisper. _"I have five cookies secreted about my person. It's your job to find them later."_

Gene froze as his face flushed. He cleared his throat and hastily covered up his groin with a file.

"I'll be right on that investigation, DCI Drake," he spluttered a little.

Kim and Robin each reached for a latte and Kim asked,

"Am I getting any new recruits, Guv?"

"You tell me, Stringer," Gene huffed.

"It's all a bit cloak and dagger, apparently," Alex told her.

"I've got no one new," Robin piped up, "who's expecting newbies?"

" _I am,"_ A voice from the doorway made everyone jump. They turned to see a face that had been conspicuous by its absence for the last four weeks.

" _Simon!"_ Kim exclaimed with a smile crossing her face. There was a pang of awkwardness in the back of her mind but that was pushed out the way by how much she'd missed her dear friend, and Robin's broad grin expressed the same response.

It seemed like a lifetime ago that Alex had taken them to one side and explained gently that Simon was on an extended period of leave after a traumatic day chasing a combination of Redlake, Layton and Keats. The news that Simon had taken Keats home had not gone down well. Alex had tried, almost literally, to play devil's advocate and despite her own reservations and fears she explained to them both exactly what Simon had told her; that Keats had beaten the devil and that all that was left were the shards of a broken man who had no recall of the horror he'd caused.

Neither Kim nor Robin had known how to react to the news. Keats had caused both of them nightmares and trauma beyond compare but whilst he and Simon were out of sight it was easier to push the thought to the back of their minds than to face it. They both felt as guilty for not contacting Simon as _he_ had felt about not contacting _them_ but it had been better for all concerned for things to remain that way. Robin and Kim were not ready to accept the situation, full stop. The more time passed, the more used they became to not confronting it and it became easier to pretend it wasn't _a thing_ that was happening. For his part, the more time that passed the harder it was for Simon to think about calling them and talking to them about the situation.

But now Simon was back. Standing in the doorway, it felt like being reunited all over again and Keats was forgotten in an instant. Kim and Robin both moved swiftly towards him as he did to them, meeting in the middle of the room; arms flying in broad, firm hugs.

"You look great," Kim told him, "is that a tan?"

"Sort of," Simon blushed a little.

"You got an _ear pierced,"_ Robin said in surprise, pinging it slightly.

" _Ouch!"_ Simon grabbed it, first cursing then laughing as Robin looked guilty and felt stupid.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think..." he apologised.

"Only had it done last week," Simon blushed.

"So do I get to call that your _stupid ear thing,_ or.." Robin teased, recalling Simon's reaction to his eyebrow piecing and Simon laughed.

"Shut up," he shook his head and hugged his friends a little more closely, "God, I missed you two."

"You're only saying that because we've got cookies," said Kim.

"Yeah, too many of them by the looks of it," Simon pulled back a little and studied Kim's bump, "is there anything you two want to tell me?" He waited as Kim and Robin exchanged a broad smile, then he jumped in the air a couple of inches, "Oh my _god_ , yes! I _knew_ it!"

"No you didn't," Kim grinned.

"I _did,"_ Simon protested, hugging them again, "oh my _god_ , congratulations, both of you!"

 _"Ahem," G_ ene cleared his throat as loudly as he could, "are _we_ chopped liver?"

Simon calmed his hugging a little and looked over their heads at Gene.

"No, but _they've_ got cookies," he said amid playful pushes from his friends.

"So's Bolly but you're not getting access to those," Gene said gruffly and Alex blushed, adjusting her cookie-filled bra a little.

"Simon," she said with a smile, "welcome back." She nodded to him as he gave her a nervous smile, "you're looking well."

Simon's whole demeanour was different, and anyone could see it. As well as his image change he had a new air of confidence and a glow none of them had seen before. Even Robin had never seen Simon exuding such a strong aura of happiness.

"I'm _feeling_ it," Simon told Alex. It was true, he _was_. For the last 4 weeks he'd been doing a lot of normal things, and that did him more good than anything. No late nights out boozing, no relying on Pizza Hut for sustenance, no running himself ragged and surviving on caffeine and tranquillizers. There had been lazy days in bed, walks to the shops, even a week away in Spain. Trips to the library, nights in front of the TV and lots of good, healthy sex. It was the first time Simon had enjoyed a 'normal' life since the day he arrived in the nineteen nineties and he was thriving on it.

"So where are they then?"

Gene's question threw simon a little.

"Where's what?" he asked and sighed, "not _cookies_ , Gene? Not Lattes? I've only been back five minutes, I'm not doing the bloody latte run already."

" _Newbies,"_ Gene raised his eyebrow, "you said you had the newbies," he glanced around, "where are they? Line 'em up. Let's see your technique," he twitched his head toward the filing cabinet. "Go on then, bring in the greenies."

Simon's face changed completely in that one moment. The glow faded to grey and his gaze became troubled. His confidence faded away and his shoulders sank right down.

"Gene," he began. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.

"Well?" Gene demanded.

Simon 's lips pursed for a moment.

"Fletcher says Marci comes under my remit now," he mumbled, "she's doing public relations too but -"

"We're all aware of Nicey Spice and her brand-spanking-new camera film budget," Gene growled, "who else?"

There was a flicker of fear in Simon's eyes which Alex picked up on immediately.

"Simon, what's wrong?" she asked. A shudder passed through her for no apparent reason and she folded her arms nervously.

"Nothing," Simon cleared his throat and tried to regain some height, "nothing's wrong. No, nothing."

"Then stop behaving like Bammo with a stash of water balloons in his pants and kindly tell us what that sweat is doing on yer brow," Gene demanded.

Simon closed his eyes and felt his lungs expand as he breathed in very slowly. This was it. There was no going back now.

" _Gene,"_ he whispered.

Gene swallowed.

"You said that already," he said dryly.

Simon nodded, trembling a little.

"It wasn't my doing, Gene."

"Simon?" Kim and Robin stepped back and looked at him anxiously, "exactly what is going on?" Kim demanded.

Simon cleared his throat again.

"Fletcher called. He said..." he flinched, "he got the paperwork. It's all official. It comes from higher up."

Gene leaned forward.

" _What_ does?" he growled.

Simon swallowed.

"My new DI," he stepped back and pulled the door open. Four curious and anxious faces leaned forward and peered through. At first they couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. Then a moment later a scared, bespectacled face peered around the frame of the door and a smart, suited body followed. The man stood in the doorway with a look of absolute fear on his face, but that was nothing compared to the terror that four individual hearts felt in the same instant.

"Hello," the man whispered, "M-my name is James."

Gene didn't even remember getting to his feet. He didn't remember stepping out from behind his desk. He didn't remember saying the words that left his mouth.

" _We all know very well who you are."_

But he _did_ remember every ounce of strength in his body lining up behind the fist that he aimed in Simon's direction, striking him under the chin and forcing his whole body back against the filing cabinet with a satisfying ' _oof_ ' noise.

"Gene, _no!"_ Alex cried, grabbing at him before he could throw another punch at Simon or launch one at James.

"That pile of _shit_ raped my _wife_ ," Gene cried in a tone none of them had ever heard him use before, "he raped your best _friend!_ He chained yer fucking _ex_ up and battered him to shreds! And you have the bleedin' gall to bring that bespectacled Beelzebub into my _office?"_

"Gene, _stop!"_ Alex cried as Simonn ducked away from a second blow.

"Gene, _no,_ he's _changed!"_ Simon cried but the sight of Kim and Robin's faces hit him harder than Gene's fist ever could. He felt a terrible sense of shame in the pit of his stomach as Kim turned as white as the bedsheets he and James had been rolling around in the night before.

" _Simon,"_ her voice was hollow and lifeless, _"why?_ Simon... how could you do this?"

" _Kim,"_ Simon shook his head, glancing at a terrified James, "he's... he's _human_... Kim, _you've seen it too, you've seen him be human... that's him now, he's James he's... he's human..."_

" _No,"_ Robin's head jerked from side to side as he stepped backwards, edging closer to the doorway, "N-no, you can't... _can't_ be doing this...?" his line of sight flitted to James as he spoke. Even though the look behind those eyes was so different to the evil gaze they'd all been caught up in at some point the face that framed them was the same one which belonged to the man who'd slashed his chest to shreds, who had chained him up and taunted him, who had looked right inside his mind and stolen truths from deep inside of it. The most violent bought of nausea he'd ever felt washed up inside of him as he relived every last moment of fear and terror he'd suffered at the hands of Keats. All those whispered words of bile; all those threats, all the pain... Recalling the violence, the terror, the torture – it swept up inside him and drove his feet to pound against the ground and out of Gene's office, past James who stepped back with tears in his eyes.

"What... what did he do?" James whispered, shaking his head, "...what... did _I_ do?"

" _Robin!"_ Simon cried as he heard violent sobbing from outside the office. The sound broke his heart and smashed his conscience to pieces as he stumbled towards the doorway, still reeling from Gene's punch.

"You're no son of mine!" Gene's angry voice barked after him as he heard Alex crying,

"I can't believe you would _do_ this, Simon."

"You've lost the plot," Kim's distraught voice whispered as she shook her head.

"Robin? What's -" Jake jumped up from his desk at the sight of Robin fleeing in distress and peered around to see what was going on, "What's happened to Ro-" he began as he trotted towards the door of Gene's office. As he stepped closer to James he stared at him, shuffling sideways so as not to let him escape from his vision as he realised exactly who he was staring at and anger boiled up inside of him. Memories of the explosions the previous year and their horrible fallout came back to him. He recalled in that instant so much suffering; losing a dear friend, watching his friends falling apart and all the times that Robin had explained to him how Keats's influence had near-destroyed them all over the last few years. Staring into those eyes, the ones hiding behind little squares of glass, drew a fury inside if Jake like never before. " _What -"_

Simon tried to push past him, in hot pursuit of Robin.

"Rob -"

Jake glared at Simon.

"Is _he_ with _you?"_ he demanded, "did _you_ bring him?"

"What? _Me?"_ Simon wasn't sure what to say, "Yes... no... it wasn't my idea -"

Jake saw red. The sound of Robin's sobs could still be heard even though he was quite a distance away by now and Jake wasn't going to leave it at that.

"You _bastard,_ " he hissed, and despite his usual hatred for violence he made a fist and managed to punch Simon in the cheekbone which, in all honesty, hurt _him_ more than it hurt Simon but he needed to express his hatred somehow.

" _Good man,"_ Gene's words hurt Simon more than the punch. So much guilt swelled up inside of Simon, he didn't know what to do first or what to do for the best.

"It wasn't _me,_ it really wasn't," he whispered as he saw James run away, terrified of what was going to happen to him, " _James, wait!"_

"I _knew_ it!" James paused for a moment and turned round, "I _knew_ this was going to happen!" a look of sheer panic crossed his face, "what did I _do_ to them, Simon? What have I _done_ to these people?" He stumbled backwards, not planning to wait around for an answer, then turned and raced down a corridor.

" _That's it, run away,"_ Gene spat, "don't let the world fuck you in yer arse on the way out. Course, you'd probably _like_ that."

Simon shot gene a withering look and shook his head.

"Oh just _leave_ it for _fuck's_ sake," he scowled, then turned and ran down the corridor, stalling at the end. He didn't know where either James or Robin had gone, nor which to go after first, let alone how to fix the crack he'd caused across the world not five minutes ago. What he did know was that he had to do _something_ because the man he'd driven down the road to work with that morning was not the same one that had caused pain and grief to those around him. In fact, the one behind those atrocities wasn't a man at all. He needed to do more than _tell_ them this. He needed to _show_ them, and to show James that he could leave the monster behind metaphorically as much as physically. He closed his eyes and took a very deep breath. Where to begin? It all felt so hard, so heavy, _impossible_ even. He felt like he was choking on thin air.

He could hear something. He held his breath to have a clearer listen. It sounded like retching; horrible, pained retching and the most intense sobbing he'd heard in his life. His heart ached and shattered all over again.

" _Rob,"_ he whispered.

That's where he needed to start. Robin would be the first. And then, one by one, he would set his friends straight. Because James as as much a part of Fenchurch East now as any one of them. And Simon wasn't going to let any one of them down, not his old friends nor his new love. That was a promise he made as much to himself as to anyone else.


	3. Chapter 2: Opening the Floodgates

**Chapter 2**

Robin spat the last of the foul taste out into the sink and swilled it around with water. He watched the last of it dribble down the plughole as he turned off the taps and slowly his gaze rose to the mirror on the wall. His hands grasped the sink so hard that he felt his knuckles start to ache from the pressure. They were whitening more with every moment that passed. He stared into his own eyes and felt a shiver travel down his spine. Every now and then a lone, involuntary sob burst out. He couldn't seem to get that under full control.

He could feel himself shaking all over as he stared at his reflection. He had never seen himself looking so afraid. His skin had turned pure white. He reached up to his cheek, tracing the streak of black that ran down from his eye and made himself flinch as he recalled someone else tracing their finger around the remnants of his eyeliner a year and a half earlier.

 _Keats._

He jumped at the sight of Simon arriving in the doorway of the bathroom. He hadn't even heard him coming down the hallway. He swallowed, and terrified eyes bore into Simon's.

" _I knew,"_ he whispered, wiping his mouth against the back of his sleeve. He knew he'd left traces of lip gloss and vomit against the white of his shirt but he didn't care. "We _all_ did, of course. Wasn't like you hadn't told me. I knew how you felt about him."

" _Rob -"_ Simon took a step toward him but Robin backed away a little and Simon stopped moving.

"And I knew you went home with him that day," Robin continued, his voice barely more than a whisper, "the one when I was in hospital?" he swallowed, flinching as he recalled how that day had been such a monumental one for himself and Kim, and how the news about Simon that he'd heard the next day had stalled their joy. "Alex told us, poor Alex... why did _she_ get stuck with that job, anyway?" He watched Simon nervously licking his lips as though he was considering answering the question, but alas he remained silent. "And th-that was _fine_ ," he flinched again, swallowing hard, "well, not _fine_ but it was... we could cope... we didn't have to see him or think abut him or run into him. We didn't have to look at him and have that... that constant reminder of what he'd done..."

"It wasn't _him,"_ Simon began but his words were lost on Robin as he continued, so softly.

"It was fine when he was out of sight and out of mind," he knew that sounded a little callous but compared to what Keats had done to them all it was nothing, "but seeing him there, today," he could hardly force himself to carry on. The words were so painful that forcing them out felt like swallowing marbles, "seeing his face, those _eyes_... he was standing _right there,"_ Robin's voice rose with his anger, "like he _belonged_ here -

"He does," Simon whispered.

"That's what it's going to be like, isn't it?" Robin could feel his heart rate rising as he trembled, "every damn day. I'll see him here, in the corridors. When I least expect it."

"You'll be down in uniform," Simon missed the point completely, "you won't be near him.."

"And what about when I come to see Kim?" Robin cried, "or when we all eat lunch together and a fourth face joins us? Or you're out on a case and you need the dogs to track someone? He's always going to be there, Simon, even when he's not in front of me. He's _there_ , just like he's been ' _there'_ every damn day for the last four years, give or take..." he coughed and choked back the nausea that was threatening to spill over again. "He shares my DNA, Si. He's my half _brother_. Don't you think looking in the mirror is a reminder enough?"

"That's not _Jim Keats_ any more," Simon slowly moved closer, "that's _James_. James is warm; _human..._ he wants to have a life, like you, like me."

"He almost took my life _away_ ," Robin cried out, pushing Simon's hand away as it threatened to touch his shoulder, "he cuffed me to my own bed and tried to _rape_ me. Simon... he slashed my chest to pieces, you've seen the scars."

"Yeah," Simon blanched. His eyes moved involuntarily to Robin's chest, even though the scars were covered by both his shirt and the artwork of Kim. Simon had seen those scars and they'd made him feel sick inside, knowing who'd committed such a vile act against someone he loved, and that the perpetrator now had stolen his heart.

"Then he blew up this station," Robin's movements became erratic and his eyes filled with anguish, "he knocked me out and tied me; _bound_ me, beat me to a pulp... the bruises took weeks to heal. The ones in my _head_..." he shook his head, "they never really did."

" _James_ isn't _Keats_ ," Simon whispered, "James didn't do this to you. The man out there today, the one who got the call from Fletcher, the one starting work with me today, that is _not_ Jim Keats. That's not the man who hurt you."

"Kim had nightmares for months," Robin breathed, shuddering as he recalled those painful, tortured nights, "I held her every night when she woke up; sometimes screaming, sometimes crying, sometimes too scared to do either. He used her in every imaginable _way_ , Simon. Physically, mentally, emotionally... he got inside her head and stole her will."

"I know," Simon whispered, choking back tears as he thought about everything his closest friends had been through. Finally he laid his hands against Robin's shoulders and Robin didn't shrug him away, "I _know_ , Rob. I went through those things too. Keats... stalked me. Tried to kill me. He..." he swallowed as he recalled a night that felt like a lifetime ago. He had never been completely sure which side of consent the act had been on. He could still hear Keats breathing evil words into his ear as he'd pushed Simon over the bed. "I'm not in love with Jim Keats. I'm in love with James."

Robin stared at Simon. His breathing was ragged and his heart thumping away as he whispered.

"So it's love, is it?"

Simon stared at him, not able to read the expression on his face.

"I-I look at what you and Kim have," he whispered, "and I envy you. _God_ , I envy you. I don't mean in the way I used to," he shook his head, "I mean... the closeness you have. The passion and the bond; the love. The laughter." He saw Robin nodding softly, almost imperceptibly, "I wanted that so _much_ , Robin. Everyone told me Michael was _so good_ for me. Everyone told me they loved him and were _so pleased_ for me, but I..." he closed his eyes as he felt a horrible stab in his guts. _Shit_. He had never finished things with Michael. He felt like a complete bastard. There was no time to worry about that right then though. "I'm glad everyone _else_ enjoyed my brief time seeing Michael. But _I_... _didn't,"_ he swallowed. "From the first night, we just... James and me..."

He noticed Robin's expression change a little as he trailed off.

"Go on," he whispered.

"We laughed," Simon felt an ache in his cheeks as he tried to fight an irresistible smile, " _God_ , Rob, we just laughed and laughed. We _talked_... he didn't remember anything... he was like a blank slate but he had a sense of humour that made me laugh so much. We talked... we just talked and talked. I felt warm and needed, a-and in _love_." He saw Robin shudder a little, "Robin, you saw him once. The human. _James_. It broke through that one day... you told me about it. In the hospital."

That wasn't a memory Robin wanted to revisit.

"Yeah," he breathed.

"I see that all the time, every day," Simon whispered, "because that's all that's left. He fought that monster. He parted ways with the devil, Rob, I saw it myself. I watched him thrashing and fighting to be rid of it. He _did_ it, Robin. He did it for _me_ , and for himself. He wanted a life and a future and he fought against the darkness to get them. He's free now. I know you can't believe me, you'll need to see it for yourself. _But_ ," his mouth felt dry, "to do that you'll have to _actually_ see it for yourself. Every day. Every day you pass him in a corridor while you're on your way to see Kim and he smiles and says hello. Every time he joins us for lunch and cracks a joke. Every time you're out with the dogs and James shares the case details with you. Every time you see me, happy."

Robin swallowed. He stared Simon deep in the eye. Simon's words had affected him more than he wanted to admit. He had truly never seen Simon with such a glow about him. He'd never seen Simon so bright or so strong. James was making that difference to him. God knows, he'd wanted Simon to be happy. He _always_ had.

"H-how can I separate the man walking these corridors with the one who beat me to within an inch of my life and hoped I would choke on my own vomit?" he whispered, shaking visibly again.

Simon felt himself deflating. He didn't have any simple answers for Robin.

"You give it time," he whispered, "you'll see. You look at James and see Keats right now, just because he has the same face. As soon as he starts talking to you... you'll _see_. That's not the voice of Jim Keats. Those aren't his jokes or puns. There's not an evil intention in his head. You know what there _is?"_ he hesitated, waiting for Robin's expression, " _fear_. He's _terrified_ , Rob. He knows there are things... things Keats did. Things _he_ can't remember because it wasn't _him_ that did them. But they were done by his body, from someone hiding behind his face, and he's going to always be taking the blame for them. That scares me so much." He closed his eyes momentarily. "I don't know if he's strong enough to cope with knowing what happened before he beat the monster. That's why he needs me. He needs me to help him through. _To survive."_

Robin nodded very slowly. That made some sense to him. He hated it with a passion but Simon's words were getting to him. The man he'd seen for a moment in the doorway of Gene's office had looked like Keats superficially same eyes, same hair, same bone structure. But his expression and the look behind those dark eyes couldn't have been more different. His voice, his stature, even his aura – it was a world apart from the ball of evil and hatred that had been known as Jim Keats.

" _Maybe,"_ he whispered so quietly Simon could barely hear. He stared down at his shoes; a million thoughts flashing through his mind, but before he could think about Simon's words too much a new wave of fear grasped him so tightly that he could barely stay on his feet. "But _here?!"_ he gasped, " _here;_ every day, walking amongst us... Simon, he _knows_ things."

Simon felt lost suddenly. The conversation seemed to have veered away without warning.

"What do you mean, Rob? Knows what?"

The panic rising inside him left Robin almost unable to speak. He gasped for breath and tried to force out the words that were sticking in his throat.

"He looked inside my head," he gibbered, "he was _insane_ , Si. He had so much power... _too_ much power. He looked right inside my head and saw everything. All my secrets. _Everything_." His eyes were wide and terrified. "He knows things about me, Simon."

Simon felt shaken by Robin's words.

"What things, Rob?" he whispered, sliding his arms around him to try to offer comfort but in his panic Robin barely noticed.

"Things that he can use against me," his words were jagged as he struggled to force them out, "things I've never told anyone."

Simon hated himself for it but there was a sinking feeling of sadness as he looked Robin in the eye and asked,

"Something you've never told _me?"_ Robin nodded and Simon cleared his throat. "But you've told Kim, haven't you? It's something Kim knows?" Robin stayed till and silent, his eyes down on the ground. A solitary tear slipped from his eye and hit the toe of his shiny black shoe. " _Kim_ knows, doesn't she?" Simon knew how close Kim and Robin were. They had no secrets. "It's _got_ to be something Kim knows."

" _It's something even I didn't know,"_ Robin whispered, his lip trembling. A second tear fell from the end of his nose and joined the first on his shoe.

"Robin, what's going on?" Simon whispered. He held him by his shoulders and squeezed them gently. "You're scaring me. What's going on? _What_ don't we know?" he swallowed, "what... what can't you even tell _me?"_

Robin looked up very slowly. He stared at Simon for several moments before he whispered,

"I-I can't even tell it to myself," he closed his eyes and breathed in sharply, "how can I tell anyone else?"

Simon felt shaken. He didn't know what more he could do or say. If Robin had a secret he wasn't ready to tell then Simon wasn't going to make things even harder for him by trying to prise it from him, but that didn't stop him worrying about it.

"Rob," he whispered, "I don't know what you think Keats knew about you, or what secrets you can't even tell yourself. But what I _do_ know is that James doesn't even know who _he_ is, let alone what he saw inside your head when there was a devil at the controls." He watched as Robin slowly raised his tear-streaked face and finally looked him in the eye, "whatever you think Keats knew about you, James has no clue. Whatever your secrets are, they're safe until the day you want to talk about them," he gave a concerned sigh, "if you ever do."

Robin felt his breathing calming down a little. Despite himself, he believed Simon's words. He didn't _want_ to but he could see truth and honesty in what Simon told him. James wasn't Keats. And while the devil incarnate had peered into his mind and found out things he hadn't even whispered inside his own thoughts those secrets had died with the creature who'd stolen them. He tried to calm himself a little. He felt like a mess; a crazy, tearful mess. Glancing up in the mirror, he looked it too. He had so much to think about and knew that he would never stop feeling that terrifying jolt of fear when catching a glimpse of James down the corridor or across the office, but Simon was right. This wasn't Keats. The shell was similar but the contents were new and that was going to take some getting used to.

" _OK."_

Simon stared at him, unsure what to say.

"OK?" he repeated.

Robin swallowed.

"I'll give him a chance," he whispered, still shivering as he thought about the exact implications of what he found himself agreeing to, " _one chance_. I don't want to be friends, I don't want to eat lunch with him, I don't want to plan your surprise birthday party with him next year. But if I see him in the corridor," he hesitated, "If I see him in the corridor I won't run and I won't hide. I won;t do anything to him if he doesn't do anything to me."

"He won't, Rob. He's not -"

"Not Keats, I know," Robin nodded slowly, "but he has one chance and one chance only. If there is one hint of that monster; one flame, one lick of fire..."

"There won't be, there _won't,"_ Simon felt a smile starting to form, even though he tried to keep it hidden.

"And if _you_ see one flicker of his old behaviour, you _tell_ me," Robin demanded, "for your own safety. One hint of Keats coming through that face and you come and you _tell_ me. Is that agreed?"

"Totally," Simon nodded. He knew Robin was worried about his own safety but he also knew James had beaten the darkness. He nodded again and looked Robin in the eye. _"Totally."_

Robin nodded. He felt shaken and weak on his feet; the morning was proving to be a challenging one in so many ways. He nodded to Simon and then to the door.

"Well go on, then," he said softly.

"Go and what?" Simon frowned.

Robin gave a weak smile.

"Go and work your magic on everyone else. Got a silver tongue, you have."

Simon have a wobbly smile.

"i don't think that's going to be easy, Rob," Simon said, rubbing his sore cheek and chin, "I've already gained two punches in as many minutes. I'm just waiting for Kim and Alex and then I'll be about done."

"Tell them the same thing you told me," Robin whispered. He looked down for a moment, then back at Simon, "and find James." he watched as simon hesitated curiously. "If you love him as much as you say you do then you should be with _him_ right now. Make sure he's alright." He thought about the others, all baying for blood, "And still alive."

Simon nodded, but he couldn't stop worrying about Robin.

"Rob," he whispered, "are you sure you'll be OkK if I go?"

Robin nodded.

"I'll be fine."

Simon bit his lip.

"If you ever decide you need to talk to someone," he began but Robin stopped him, shaking his head.

"I know you mean well, Simon," he whispered, "but I don't think I ever will. I don;t think I ever _could._ "

Simon felt his heart ache with worry. There was a dark cloud; a heaviness on Robin's shoulders that Simon hadn't seen before. He swallowed.

"Rob..."

"I'm alright, I'm really, really alright," Robin quickly wiped his eyes and gently pushed Simon towards the door, "Go and find him. I'm fine, I'm just being stupid." He watched Simon step towards the door, then hesitate. _"Go,_ before Gene sends him on an eternal latte run."

He watched a brief smile cross Simon's expression and watched him leave the bathroom with a little reluctance but as soon as Simon had left Robin's eyes turned back to the mirror and he stared at his reflection again. The dark lines from his eyes had worsened and he looked paler than he'd ever seen himself look. He swallowed, confronting the person in the mirror. Everything he'd said had been true; Keats had looked inside his head and stolen from him secrets that even _he_ hadn't been privy to and even if he had he'd certainly not been ready to admit to himself.

He swallowed as he confronted his reflection again. He reached out slowly and touched the glass. The person in the mirror stared back at him.

One thing he'd told Simon had been a lie. It was true that back then he hadn't been ready to admit that burning secret to himself. His mind had placed its hands firmly over its ears and refused to listen to the gnawing pain that had always been there in the back of his consciousness, trying to make itself heard but never quite getting through.

But things had changed.

The secret had raised its voice and the whisper became a shout that couldn't be ignored any longer. Its crescendo hurt. It boomed inside his head and twisted him up inside until the first ounce of admission seeped through a crack in his will to fight it back. When Keats had reached into his mind and pulled out a hidden whisper Robin hadn't been ready to listen. It wasn't the right time. It never had been, not once in all though years. He wasn't in the right place, not literally or emotionally. But a person evolves day by day. One never quite knew when that day would arrive.

The Robin in the mirror looked back at him with a new understanding of something deep within himself, a voice becoming louder and louder all the time until it screamed out from within him.

He blurted words into the empty bathroom that only the mirror image of himself could hear and collapsed at the magnitude of what he'd done. It didn't matter that no one else had been around to hear it. _He'd_ heard it. He'd heard his own words and saying them made them real. Now the crack in his denial had been blown wide open there was no sealing it up and no hauling that secret back inside.

Whether he could share those words with another person remained to be seen. But in a way that was irrelevant. Just saying the words confirmed what he knew but had tried so hard to bury.

Robin knew his own secret beyond any reasonable doubt. Now the lion had been set free it was impossible to keep it from roaring. Sooner or later, someone would hear. Until then, it stayed between Robin and his reflection.


	4. Chapter 3: Turning The Page

**Chapter 3**

Simon's eyes flicked from one side to the other, unsure where he should go next. He had so many things to sort out, so many people to find and he had no idea where to start.

" _Bastard."_

Simon looked up as Jake stomped by, aiming a middle finger and a casual insult in his direction. _That_ , he decided, might be a good place for him to start.

"Jake, wait," he tried to grab his shoulder but succeeded only in de-leafing a potted plant. He threw down a handful of leaves from his surprised hand and took chase after the angry DS instead, " _Oi,_ I said wait!"

Jake turned around and glared at Simon.

"Are you _oi_ -ing me?" he scowled, making a valiant attempt at being threatening. He knew it wasn't working out too well and decided to drop the front. He wasn't very good at that. Instead he stared at Simon, waiting for some kind of answer, some sort of explanation. He folded his arms when none was forthcoming and sighed, "well?"

Simon hesitated.

"Well what?"

"Where are the excuses?" Jake prompted, "all the spiel about him being some kind of reformed character."

Simon took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"He _is,_ " he said quietly but his words seemed to set Jake's anger off again.

"See, I _knew_ you were going to throw something like this in the works," he snapped.

"Something like what?"

"The old, _he's changed, he's not the same man you knew_ bollocks," Simon had never seen Jake with so much anger in his eyes, "I remember testifying in court, DCI Shoebury. I remember seeing that man sitting there, smirking away. He planted bombs in our station and, if rumours are to be believed, he -" Jake's voice dropped suddenly as he realised he couldn't bring himself to yell the next word. His eyes darted from side to side to make sure no one else was listening and hissed, "- _raped_ DCI Drake. _And_ Kim. DCI Stringer," Jake gave a brief sigh, never sure how to refer to his boyfriend's fiancée; by her name or her title. They weren't all out for a night of dancing but he couldn't shut himself off from the reality by using a job title. " _Kim_ ," he decided, "he raped Kim. He almost killed Robin. He had him _chained up -"_

"I know," Simon whispered, his heart sinking as his frustration rose.

"...beat him, punched him -"

" _I know."_

"...terrified him, tortured him, said things to him that hurt him so badly he won't even tell me -"

"So join the club," Simon interrupted crossly, "So Robin's got things he won't tell anyone. He's not the only one." he closed his eyes and drew in his breath, his cheeks flushing as he recalled how many months had passed in which Keats had filled his mind. He'd kept his infatuation a secret so as not to cause any hurt but what good had _that_ done? Half of them knew how he felt _anyway_. He closed his eyes and looked down for a moment as he tried to regain his composure. This was important. He finally looked back at Jake and nodded very slowly.

"You witnessed a monster destroying your friends," he began slowly, "destroying the station. Trying to destroy every one of us. That man is _not_ the same one who came to work this morning. I promise you that."

"Oh no?" Jake folded his arms and shrugged angrily, "so who is he then? A waxwork? A lookalike you hired from that agency down the road?"

"James had problems," Simon said quietly, "He was consumed by -" he flinched. He'd come so close to blurting _'_ the devil' but he couldn't. Jake didn't know. He had no idea. He stepped through Gene's world every day and had no idea of the true nature of the air around him. There was something innocent and beautiful about that; watching the ones who belonged going through their daily lives, the lives they didn't have back in the real world any longer. He drew in his breath and tried again. "He had some mental health issues. He wasn't himself, quite literally, Jake. He thought he was someone else. Someone evil. He felt like there was a voice inside his head, making him do bad things." It wasn't altogether a lie. In fact the excuse seemed quite fitting. The devil hadn't been on his shoulder, it had been in every bone of his body. "He fought and fought to get free of that voice, and he got better."

Jake stared at Simon incredulously. It all seemed a little too convenient of an excuse to him.

"Did he seek treatment?" he asked dryly and Simon closed his eyes.

"Not as such," he whispered.

"Then how do you know he's better?" Jake asked, "he could be faking it, or -"

"He's not faking it," Simon's voice was steady and certain as he shook his head, "he got help. It wasn't medicated but it was what he needed." He recalled the long evenings by the fire where James spoke about the gaps in his memory, how it felt as he'd overpowered the dark side and how the way he felt about Simon had been the crucial key in that victory. "He's beaten his demons," Simon's voice wavered a little, "and he's getting there."

"Bullshit," the one word Jake uttered under his breath contained every ounce of venom he felt towards Keats, even though what he knew of the situation was minimal compared to most. He thrust his foot forward to remove himself from the situation before he landed another punch on Simon and put himself in danger of a broken hand but Simon grasped his arm and stopped him.

"James has serious psychological issues. He had a breakdown of sorts. He didn't know what he was doing, he was quite literally not himself and now he's in a situation where his body -" he flinched. He knew Jake wasn't buying it and he had to tone it down to a level he would understand, "it feels to him like his body went off on a mission to destroy people without him. He lives every day with the knowledge that he's being blamed for things he has no memory of and couldn't fight back against. All he wants is a chance, Jake. Doesn't everyone deserve a second chance?"

Jake stared at Simon; his heart beating hard and fast as he thought about Simon's words. No, he wasn't sure that everybody did deserve a second chance. But if the question came down to whether _James_ deserved a second chance, he felt himself starting to make a decision he wasn't sure he should be making.

"Maybe," he whispered, "but that would depend on whether what you believe is true."

Simon blinked, trying to take in Jake's expression. What did it even mean? He was so hard to read at times.

"I've seen him," he said quietly, urging Jake to believe him, "I mean, before. I saw him torn, trying to fight back the monster with terror on his face. I heard him beg with me, plead with me to help him. He wanted to be -" he tried not to let the word 'human' slip out, "to be _James_. To have a life, to lead it as he wished without someone else at the helm. I watched him in agony, fighting the demons in his head, for himself, for me, for the good of _everyone_. He _did_ it, Jake. And for the last month I've watched him trying to rebuild his life. This is another step for him. Not just having a job to keep him going, keep his mind working, day after day but to face the people he knows that he hurt." He paused for breath and noted the look on Jake's face was changing; just subtly but it _was_. "Coming here today was the most terrifying thing he could have done, we both know that. Whatever you think of him you have to admit that this was a brave step."

Jake ran his tongue across his lips which felt very dry suddenly.

"That would depend on his motive for doing it, sir," he said stiffly, all too aware this could be a ruse.

Simon stared back at him, his little hope falling out from under him. He couldn't give up, James needed this break and Simon, for what it was worth, could see the good that it could do everyone else. They were all haunted by _The Ghost of Jim Keats Past._ Seeing the James of the present, putting that horror behind them, could help them _all_ to move forward.

"What would make you believe me, Jake?" he whispered, expecting the word 'nothing' to fly from Jake's mouth in an instant. To his surprise Jake took his time thinking about his response. He closed his eyes as he weighed up Simon's words. He didn't know the full story about Jim Keats and the history he had with his friends. He did know that this wasn't an easy situation, for anyone. The last thing he wanted was to make it worse.

"Proof," he said quietly eventually.

Simon blinked.

"Proof?" he repeated.

"And I know that to give me proof he needs to be given a chance," Jake hated his admission but he knew that was the only way, "so I will give your _friend_ a chance," he took a deep breath, in danger of his voice wavering, " _But_ ," he continued before Simon could start feeling he was off the hook, "there are conditions."

"What conditions?" Simon asked, a little too fast.

"Number one," he said, "I need to ask Robin if this is going to damage him too much."

"I just talked to him," Simon said quickly, "he's fine with it... well," he stopped himself, "he's not _fine,_ but he -"

"I think I'll ask him myself," Jake interrupted, "just to be sure," the look he gave Simon reminded him of Gene on a filing cabinet mission and made him shudder.

"Fine," he said quietly, "that's understandable."

"I care about him," Jake said sternly, "if something hurts Robin, it hurts me. Clear?"

Simon had never seen Jake like this before. He'd rarely seen him stand up for _himself,_ let alone someone else. As much as it unnerved him it made him feel a little better in some ways. Not that Robin needed a second protector with Kim and her piercing kit around but it helped Simon to feel better knowing Robin had so much love on his side.

"Totally clear," Simon said quietly, "and as it should be."

"Second," Jake continued, "if I or anyone else sees any hint of _Jim Keats_ he is out. No questions asked."

"You won't do," Simon said softly. James had won that battle. He knew it with every fibre of his being.

"And third," Jake continued, "you start respecting me." His third catch gave Simon a shock.

"Pardon?" he blinked, not sure he'd heard that right.

"I've had enough of you sneaking glares at me and saying stuff behind my back," Jake told him crossly. He saw Simon open his mouth to protest, "Everyone's seen you, there's no point denying it." He watched Simon close his mouth again, looking suitably ashamed. "I don't understand why you have a problem with me, if it's because I'm a lower rank than you -"

"No," Simon frowned.

"Or because of the misunderstanding just after I started," Jake saw simon hang his head in embarrassment, "or whether you just don't like the colour of my shirt. But it's stupid. I've never shown you anything but respect..."

"Not really doing it right now," Simon couldn't resist pointing out but Jake silenced him with another glare.

"It stops. I just want to get on in my job, have a little fun at night, live my own life. I don't care what problem you think you have with me, I just want you to get over it. Or, at least, hide it."

Simon nodded slowly. If he was honest he had never really known what his problem was with Jake. Maybe he would never work it out. He wasn't going to just get over it – at least not until he worked out what it was – but he was wiling to put it to one side, for James's sake.

"That's a deal," he said quietly.

"Good," Jake seemed to shake a little as though shocked by his own strength. He tried to get himself under control and cleared his throat. "Now , I've got to find Robin."

"He's in the toilet," Simon told him, "well, he was. Don't know if he still is."

"Fine," Jake turned to find his boyfriend but a sudden thought from Simon held him back.

"Jake?"

Jake glanced round.

"What?"

Simon hesitated. He bit his lip and tried to work out how to word things.

"Did... Robin ever tell you anything about some secret?" he asked eventually, feeling bad even bringing it up with someone behind his back.

"A secret?"

"Something he's not told anyone?" Simon asked and Jake gave a confused and somewhat cross laugh.

"If it was a secret he's not told anyone then why would I know?" he asked.

Simon looked down.

"No." he said quietly, "I suppose you're right, you wouldn't."

Jake frowned.

"Is there," he paused, "is anything _wrong_ with Robin?" he asked, worry creeping onto his face.

Simon shook his head.

"Probably nothing," he said quietly. He closed his eyes. "No, I'm just being paranoid. It's nothing." he stared at Jake who was staring back. "Go on, then. Go and find him."

Jake hesitated, then nodded and began to walk away. He was still unsure of both Simon and James but for the sake of peace he was going to give them a chance, as long as Simon had been right about Robin's acceptance. He was usually a man of peace and he didn't want to be at war. He just hoped that his decision wasn't like waving the white flag to the devil.

 **~xXx~**

 _ **A/N: I couldn't let today pass me by without updating. It's 6 years ago today that the final episode of Ashes to Ashes aired. The story we'd all been following for the last 3 series – with 2 seasons of LOM before it – had finally reached the end of its journey. Hard to believe so much time has passed since then nor how much has changed. Six years on, the one-shot that I wrote in response to the final episode has turned into a monster – more of a monster than Mr Jim Keats, in fact. And I thank my lucky stars every day that I started writing these fics. Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed or messaged me, I've not been able to keep up with messages recently but I will catch up when I can and in the meanwhile I hope you enjoyed the latest chapter from what is a relatively short fic. There are about 5 chapters left, give or take. Happy A2A day, everyone! Your friendship and support is truly appreciated x**_


	5. Chapter 4: Pave the Way

**Chapter 4**

" _She isn't here."_

Simon jumped visibly and turned around to find Alex standing directly behind him. He swore he'd not heard her creeping upon him at all, almost as though she'd glided soundlessly through the air.

"What?" he breathed, clutching his chest. Hos heart was thumping at double-speed from the surprise but he just about stopped himself from thinking he was going to have a heart attack. He was pretty sure Gene's world didn't _do_ those. Not for DCIs anyway.

"Kim," Alex said with a tight smile, "I've been looking for her too."

Simon looked down and felt his cheeks starting to burn. He nodded slowly and his shoulders drooped.

"I just wanted to see if she was OK," he said awkwardly.

Alex nodded.

"I know," she said, "me too."

Simon became very aware that they were being watched. Fresh from his altercation with Jake he had made an attempt at checking on Kim. He felt so many different kinds of guilt for bringing the face that had previously been used by Jim Keats into Fenchurch East. Even though James was a very different man he knew that every time his friends looked into those eyes they'd see the monster who'd scarred them all. With no idea where he would find James, he decided to check on his best friend to see if she was alright before setting off to track him down but he'd found an empty office and a sneaky Alex making him jump out of his skin. Now he was being observed by Em, who was sharpening the station's pencil supply for the eight millionth time, and Kim's DS, whom he was sure had been winking at him at least twice a day since she'd started work there.

"Sorry, Alex, I'll just," he cleared his throat and lowered his eyes, taking a step past her but Alex spoke to halt him.

"It shouldn't have been your responsibility." She watched him stop in his tracks and turn around slowly.

"What shouldn't?" he asked.

"Telling us," Alex looked at him seriously, "That should have been Superintendent Fletcher's job. It wasn't fair on you."

Simon closed his eyes and gave a slow nod.

"I thought he'd told you," he admitted, "when I came in, I thought you would have been told already."

"We hadn't," Alex told him, perhaps a little unnecessarily, "it was a shock."

Simon looked down again.

"I know," he whispered.

"Fletcher made a poor decision," Alex told him, "we should have had the chance to process the news."

Simon stared at her, unsure why she was being so measured and so reasonable. Alex had more reason than most to hate Keats. She'd suffered so much abuse at his hands in so many different different forms over the years, and yet here she was; standing right before Simon with no screaming, no swearing, nothing.

"He's not the same person, Alex," Simon began, "James isn't Keats. He beat it, he beat the monster -"

"I know."

Simon stared at Alex, waiting for the catch. There had to be more. He couldn't accept her calm and flat response.

"What?"

Alex swallowed and took in a steady breath.

"You already told me all of this, Simon." She hesitated as Simon seemed confused. "The day he broke free," her words were quiet so as to avoid nearby ears, " _beating the darkness, being a man,_ I've heard it all before. I can only take your word for that."

"You'll see it for yourself, Alex," Simon assured her, "every day. You'll see how different he is."

"Maybe," Alex seemed so cold and so distant as she spoke. That unnerved Simon a little. "I hope you're right."

"I am."

"Gene's the one you have to convince of this, not me."

Simon closed his eyes.

" _Fuck,"_ he breathed out, "how do you suggest I do that?"

Alex shrugged and the first hint of warmth showed through since the start of their conversation.

"That's _your_ job," she said with a tiny smile, "I'm sorry. I've already done as much as I can do." She noticed Simon looking confused and continued, " _I_ calmed him down after your announcement. He was threatening to go down to the canine department and set the dogs on the pair of you. By the time I'd calmed his temper I noticed Kim had gone." She glanced past Simon into Kim's office. "I've been back to check three times but no one's seen her."

"Do you think she's OK?" Simon asked and Alex shrugged.

"She's Kim," she said. That was as good an answer as any.

"Alex," Simon drew in his breath and ran his tongue around his lips slowly, "Alex, thank you. For... for being so reasonable about this -"

Alex halted him with a shake of her head.

"I'm not being reasonable," she said flatly, "I'm being the better person. Or trying to." she looked at Simon seriously. "You forget sometimes that we've seen it too." she saw Simon's confused frown deepening and sighed. " _The human._ That other side to Jim Keats. _James._ You remind us we've seen it but then forget it and give us the sales pitch again. I saw him too, Simon," she moved closer and whispered shakily, "in the hospital, his own tape playing out. We met James then, for the first time. And he's been back, just for a few moments, every now and again. _But_ ," she flinched visibly and Simon began to worry, "we've also seen that same face you brought in this morning wearing a dark glare or an evil smirk or a smug glance. We've seen that face deliver punches and assaults and devastation in its words and actions. I understand that the devil might have checked out but the room still looks the same after he's departed."

Simon swallowed hard and felt himself trembling just a little.

"What do you mean?" he whispered.

 _"I mean,"_ Alex continued in measured tones, "that as much as I want to believe James is all sweetness and light and as much as I hope, for your sake, that his new position here works out the way you both want it to I need you to remember that the face you kiss goodnight is - on the surface - the same one who glowered at me as he abducted me, drugged me, assaulted me without a second thought." She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, trying to keep her emotions in check, "so please, Simon, if you see me flinch, or you see Kim turn her back or Robin leave the room, don't judge us for that. As much as we might try, now and then those memories are going to be too hard to control."

"He's not the same -"

" _\- man,_ I know," Alex interrupted, "we've been over this, Simon. Flashbacks don't listen to reason. Triggers don't always look at context. If we look at James and see Jim Keats for a moment, please remember it's not on purpose. At least, I would _hope_ I wasn't."

Simon stared at the floor and nodded slowly. Her words made a lot of sense to him.

"I guess you'd know this better than most," he said with nervous laughter and Alex shuddered.

" _The other me,"_ she whispered, "Yes." She shook her head and gave a slightly bitter laugh. After returning to her own body in 1995 she'd had to face up to all the things 2000-something Alex had done, running amok in her body. She looked at Simon again. "Yes, I _do_ know. I know what it's like to wake up and know someone's been taking my body for a joyride. I know what it's like to have people staring at me and talking behind my back about the things I did when I was..." she rolled her eyes, " _having a funny turn." S_ he ran her fingers through her hair and sighed, "James is going to need you. You are going to have to be strong for him."

"I will," Simon nodded.

"Then why aren't you with him now?"

Simon hesitated. It was a good question.

"I have loyalty to _all_ of you, Alex," he said, feeling anxious and torn, "I need to make sure all of you are alright and I need to make sure James is, too. I don't know where to start or who to go to first."

"Do you know where James is?"

Simon shook his head.

"No," he sighed softly, "That's why I started here. Trying to find all of you before I tried finding James. He could be back home for all I know."

"Then," Alex stepped back and waved Simon through, "I suggest you find him." Simon held back, feeling confused and Alex rolled her eyes. "For goodness sake, you've been trying to sell this to us all morning. If this man is worth your time and energy then you need to find him before he throws in the towel, before he's even started."

Simon hesitated, then gave a certain nod. Alex was right.

"OK," he said. He took one step forward then stopped and glanced at Alex. His heart sped up as he made a confession, "Alex?" he swallowed, "I'm so scared."

"Scared? Of what?"

"What do I _say_ to him?" Simon shook his head, "how do I even begin? The reaction you all gave him -" he hesitated as he felt a little guilty, "no offence... but it was brutal. He's probably terrified right now. He's a scared man, Alex. He doesn't know who he is yet. All he knows is that he's never had a chance."

" _He's not getting one on my watch."_

Simon jumped several inches in the air and gave a yelp of surprise. His eyes turned to see Gene who was standing in the corridor, the darkest expression across his face.

"Gene," he whispered.

"Your bottom buddy needs to sling his hook," Gene told him angrily, "or, if he needs someone to sling it _for_ him, I'm happy to do the job."

"No," Simon found the burst of strength he'd been struggling to locate and marched forward, "No, Gene. This might be your station and your world but you're not the only person breathing this air. This isn't your call."

Gene stared at Simon, his expression unreadable.

"Are you challenging me, Shoebury?"

Simon felt his resolve waver but stopped it from crumbling beneath him.

"No," he said firmly, "because this is _not_ your call."

"Really?" Gene wasn't used to being challenged in this way, whatever Simon said. He stared at Simon's expression, watching the drops of fear threatening to burst through his resolve, but no matter how much he glared Simon didn't withdraw from the fight. Eventually he took a step back and nodded.

"Alright, Shoebury," he began.

Simon stared, expecting a follow up remark or some kind of snarky comment or even a violent visit to Kim's filing cabinet but to his surprise he was serious.

"Really?" he asked incredulously.

"Bloody hell., Shoebury, you invite the devil into yer pressed linen sheets but you're scared of a little one-to-one with the Manc Lion?"

"Frankly, _yes!"_

Gene closed his eyes and gave a cross sigh.

"I'm seriously regretting me decision to let you have yer two minutes of airtime," he growled. "That's all you've got. Two minutes. So make them good." He shook his head to the right. "In my office."

Simon took in a deep breath. His heart was racing but he had no choice. He'd come this far. James needed this. He needed his job and he needed this chance. This was the best way to clear the path for his future to unfurl.

"Thank you," he said quietly. He started to move swiftly to the doorway, sending Alex an awkward smile as he did. Alex watched him go, slightly shaking her head. She wasn't sure what chance simon stood, selling his case to Gene, but she also knew he had no option but to try. No matter how she felt about the man who'd once been Jim Keats she also knew that falling in love with someone wasn't a choice. He needed to stand up for his relationship every bit as much as she'd fought for hers with Gene over the years.

Her eyes turned to Kim's empty desk and she sighed as a shiver of panic spread through her veins.

" _Where are you, Kim?"_ she wondered.

 _ **~xXx~**_

 _ **A/N: I had tried to get this ready to post on monday night for the 23rd May but I've been suffering a lot of blackouts this week so I wasn't able to finish it in time. Today is a good alternative to post it. It's been six years since my whole world changed with the writing of my first chapter. At the time it was only ever supposed to be a one-shot to iron out the flaws that I felt the finale of Ashes to Ashes had. It was the first time I'd written in a decade and I remember how hard it was at the time to force out those words at the start. I spent the whole day writing, on and off, and little by little it became easier and the words started flowing.**_

 _ **Six years later those words are still flowing, albeit slower than they had for some time. If 23rd May was the true birthday of my fics then 26th May is a good back up since Ffnet made me wait 3 days after opening my account to post the fic. 6 Years ago today, Out of the Window went up as a oneshot and now Real Cool World exists as a tome of text somewhat terrifying in scale. Writing these stories has saved my life and brought me an entirely new one; it has brought new friends to my door, helped me to conquer my own past and – most importantly of all – played a pivotal role in the deepening of my relationship with my best friend as we fell in love. The Robin to my Kim.**_

 _ **Although my work is slow now, it will carry on. I could never leave this world unfinished. Thank you all for sharing it with me x**_


	6. Chapter 5: Refresh the Page

**Chapter 5**

A wave of fear travelled through Simon's veins as he took a seat in Gene's office, facing the man who'd supplied half of his DNA, signed off his paperwork and given him a phobia of filing cabinets. Gene was a man he'd feared and admired in equal measures. The two had been through several world wars over the period of time they'd known one another but there had been an underlying mutual respect throughout it all. The last thing he wanted was to antagonise Gene but this was a fight he couldnl' back down from. He had to stay strong and steady.

A glass appeared in front of him and scotch flowed into it. Simon's eyes followed the owner of the bottle as he crossed the room and took his seat the other side of the desk, then poured a measure of his own before bringing the bottle to his lips instead and downing several large gulps, rendering his glass obsolete. Simon swallowed nervously, watching Gene as he wiped his lips and folded his arms. He knew whatever words were due to come from Gene's mouth weren't going to be pretty but he had to take them. He had no choice.

"Fifteen years ago." Gene finally grunted three words. He watched Simon staring at him with confusion.

"I," Simon shrugged and tried several times to begin a sentence but it simply wasn;' happening. "What?"

Gene closed his eyes and took in a very deep breath to quell some of the unrest bubbling in his chest.

"It's been fifteen years since Jimbo swanned into me station, had me door opening at his beck and call, fiddled with his nerdy frames and got his feet under the table."

Simon shook his head and closed his eyes..

"James isn't -" he began but Gene shut him up with a glare.

"You've given that speech before," he scowled, "it's my turn." He leaned back and lifted his glass, staring at the liquid inside of it as he finally spoke again. "I made one mistake and D and C came in to sit on me like a bloody great Doberman on me chest. He was sly, Shoebury. Took his time. He crept in and turned me team against me bit by bit, like a slow acting poison in their veins." He supped from the glass, unable to meet Simon's stare. "I ended up watching Bolly dig up my corpse." He could see simon flinch out of the corner of his eye. "He took my team away, destroyed my office, landed a right hook in me smiler," he closed his eyes, "and made me listen to Club Tropicana for two hours straight."

"Oh _Gene,"_ Simon's sympathy burst forward, despite everything. He might have been in love with James but the _Wham! s_ tuff was a step too far.

Gene looked at him sternly. It was vital he heard every word and truly understood it.

"Thanks to Bolly I got everything back. My team, my pride, my office. Took the A Team for last orders that night. You've met DI Carling."

Simon shuddered again.

"Unfortunately," he said.

Gene shook his head slowly. He drank the rest of his scotch, thumped the glass back on the table and refilled it quickly.

"He was there. Lurkin'. Spiting and hissing like the Cheshire Cat gone feral. I made a mistake that night, sending Alex away. She jumped out the window to get back here. I thought she'd be safer in the pub. _No Jimbo_. Instead the stupid mare decided she couldn't live without a whiff of me man-stink every morning." He hated to admit it but he could feel an irresistible smile threatening to break out on his otherwise unappeasable face. "The sight of her behind that scrawny idiot I'd been sent was a better treat for me eyes than a whole bottle of Optrex."

Simon initially nodded, then realised the description Gene had given of the aforementioned recruit was horribly familiar and scowled severely.

" _Hey!_ I _was_ that scrawny idiot!" he cried.

Gene ignored him.

"There he was again; the bad smell that kept creeping in every time someone dared to open a window," He growled, "with his video tapes and his promises. He caught _you_ in his net _right_ away, didn't he?"

Simon didn't know where Gene was going with this.

"I needed to get home," he said, trying desperately to cover up the shame he still felt about that, "I didn't _know_ -"

"No one ever did," Gene sighed, "did they? Stringer. Eddie. Even Bolly got herself caught up in Jimbo's web. Bloody boomerang of evil; no matter how far we threw him he came back. Until they ripped his badge away and someone turned on the eternal fire extinguisher, hmm?"

Simon put his glass back down on the desk and stared at Gene.

"Where's this going, Gene?" he asked.

Gene closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. He wasn't sure he knew himself.

"Fifteen years, that face has been the bad penny that keeps turning up," he said, "fifteen bloody years, couldn't turn me cheek for a second. He was sat over in the wild West, polishing his filing cabinets and his in-tray, and roughing up every poor twonk who had the misfortune to arrive in his station. But _this,"_ Gene's stare finally met Simon's and held it firmly. "This was always _my_ domain." he saw Simon's head bow slightly as he realised what Gene was trying to say.

"He's not after your station, Gene," he began but Gene cut him off.

"Right here, right under my nose," he said angrily, "like someone's rubbing it in. _'Look, DCI Hunt, your worst nightmare is shuffling papers down the hall. At least, he is until six in the evening when he goes home and shacks up with your illegitimate son for a quick shoofty up his back alley!"_

Simon drew back a little from the force of Gene's tirade. He swore some of the posters on the wall opposite flapped in the breeze. He watched Gene's brow become encrusted with beads of sweat that sat there like little jewels, catching the light occasionally as they slid downwards and his cheeks reddened a little like a cartoon character who was about to blow a fuse. There was a long silence before Simon dared to speak, even though Gene was still panting a little. He spoke in quiet, measured tones, as though frightened the ceiling would cave in if he were to talk too loudly.

"Maybe you need to flip things round and see it in a new light," he said quietly. Gene's gaze , which had been focused slightly beyond Simon's face, slowly turned directly to him.

"What?" There was no real anger behind his single spoken word, just confusion and a little annoyance.

"It's not _Jim Keats_ sitting in my office, filing my paperwork," Simon got to his feet and slowly began to pace the room, "it's this guy called James. And James is terrified because his worst nightmare is just down the corridor." He hesitated, trying to read Gene's level of acknowledgement before saying, "that's you, by the way."

Gene's expression clouded suddenly, followed by an attempt to grab Simon by the tie, only narrowly missing his target.

"I've not _quite_ washed all me grey matter down the crapper yet, Shoe-Boy," he scowled and Simon gulped. He knew he was in trouble now ' _Shoe-Boy_ ' was out of mothballs.

"Look, _you_ hold all the cards here, Gene," Simon slightly took his life in his hands by leaning over the desk towards him, "James is not Jim Keats, and I've said that so many times this morning I'm thinking of getting Kim to tattoo it on my forehead at this point."

" _Pffffft," G_ ene mocked, "you never would, you'd pass out just from saying the word ' _tattoo_ '."

Simon ignored him.

"He's got no memory of what he did to you, to me, to _any_ of us; all he knows is that someone rented out his body for a few decades and committed the kinds of sin that warranted me being punched," he cringed, " _twice_." He saw Gene looking slightly guilty. "You look at him and you see Jim Keats but you're only looking at the outside. Inside, there's nothing _left_ of Keats. Nothing left of the flames and the evil that we all linked with that face and that name. Walking through those doors today was _terrifying_ for James, but he did it. He wants to prove he's more than just 'the man who used to be Jim Keats.' He wants to make a go of this and he deserves a second chance. He's never had an opportunity to live and now that he actually does..." He closed his eyes and gave a deep sigh, "...he's got _decades_ to catch up on, Gene, and he doesn't know where to start. But a truce with you would be a good place." He held his stare against Gene's and refused to back down. "Like I said, you're holding all the cards here, Gene. You could make his life a walking misery, but I think you're better than that."

Gene narrowed his eyes at simon.

"It's too early on a monday morning for reverse psychology," he huffed.

"All he wants is a fair chance to prove himself," Simon urged, "at least give him that. If you see him mess up, if he does _one thing_ that sounds like Jim Keats's M.O. then you have every right to eject him from the station. But you can't deprive a man of the chance to live the life he's never had." He tried not to blink as he held Gene's stare, "That's what this place _is_ , right?" That was it; the sentence that started to break Gene; "a place where we go for a second chance?"

"He wasted his second chance," Gene began but Simon shook his head.

"Jim Keats did," he said, "James hasn't even begun."

Gene stared at Simon, scarcely believing that the neurotic mess of a man who'd crashed into his office and broke three toes some fifteen years previously was talking him into letting Jimbo get his feet under the table. Then again, Simon was a very different person now.And so, he finally admitted silently with great reluctance, was Keats. ' _James',_ he mentally corrected.

"One month," Gene huffed.

"What?" Simon blinked.

"He's got one month's probation," Gene said, wagging his finger under Simon's nose, "one month to prove you right. One _hint_ of a flame and he's out on his ear."

Simon tried to keep calm but inside his heart began thumping harder and harder. He blinked and shook himself a little to make sure he wasn't hearing things, then he looked at Gene seriously.

"You... _really?!"_

Gene scowled. He didn't really want to repeat it.

"If _he_ behaves, _I'll_ behave," Gene said, clearing his throat angrily as Simon started to do a little congratulatory dance in front of him. _"But,"_ he said loudly, stopping Simon in his tracks, "that's a very big 'if'. Jimbo's been around the block enough times to find a way back. He'll _always_ find a way."

Simon swallowed to gulp away the sudden reappearance of the anxious knot in his chest, . then he relaxed.

"James is stronger," he said decisively.

Gene stared at simon, not sure he was altogether happy with the events of the last five minutes but there was one thing that stood out to him above everything else; Simon's sudden confidence and strength. That was a quality he'd been lacking for such a long time. For that matter Gene was glad of the whole confrontation. Maybe there _was_ a little of him in Simon after all.

He knew this was going to be the start of a dark and difficult time for all those who knew the horror that the sight of James's facial features had brought to them but he had a feeling they would survive it. He even _wanted_ Simon to prove him wrong, not least of all because if James really was stronger then the dreaded Jimbo could be gone from their world forever.

With one last nod he sealed the matter, at least for the time being.

"Go on then," he indicated the door, "go and put your new DI to work." He hesitated as Simon's face started glowing with a grin he wasn't even trying to hide, then he added, "and by _put him to work_ I mean on your _filing_ ,not on your -"

" _One,"_ Simon said loudly, aiming a single, solitary finger in front of Gene, "I'm allowing you _one_ homophobic joke, so make it a good one and don't waste it on any cheap shots like the one you're trying to unleash upon me right now."

As he left Gene thinking carefully about which of many possibilities was going to be his insult of choice, Simon felt a pang of worry inside him. He wasn't actually sure where James even was, or even of he was still on the premises. He bit his lip and ran a hand through his hair as he started to scope out the surroundings, looking for his features, but there was no sign in CID. Fenchurch East wasn't exactly a small building and he wasn't sure where James could have gotten to, _if_ he was even still there at all. He cursed himself for not going after James immediately, but he also knew James had to learn to fight some of his own battles. He just hoped this wasn't a fight he'd lost already.

xXx

She'd heard the crying long before she'd even reached the door.

A cold shiver ran through her and she hesitated; listening for a few moments as the crying seemed to lessen and some petrified muttering took its place. When silence eventually fell she knocked three times, very gently and waited. No one called to her. No one told her to come in but no one told her to go away either, so eventually she slowly turned the handle and opened the door.

She'd never seen a more terrified pair of eyes in all her life.

 **xXx**

 _ **A/N: Hello guys! I am still here, and still writing. I actually wrote this a few months back but I have not been able to edit it until now as my health has become more difficult to manage. I had a second bout of meningitis in July and since then I've been having a lot of difficulty with my increasingly poor co-ordination affecting my typing and with the chronic pain in my hands and fingers. Please forgive me if this chapter is poorly typed, or if anything is incoherent – I have done the very best that I can and just really need to start writing again. My characters have been calling for me :)**_


	7. Chapter 6: Cleaning the Slate

**Chapter 6**

"Still no sign of her?"

Alex somehow managed to jump and do a full 180 degree turn in the same instant. She'd been a million miles away, lost in her own thoughts when the voice came from the doorway. It wasn't even _her_ doorway, but then that was the whole point of the question.

" _No,"_ Alex tried not to sigh but a little one came out as she forced a smile, "I've been checking."

Simon seemed a little nervous himself.

"Not like Kim," he said uncomfortably, aware James's arrival had been the catalyst to her disappearance, "have you checked the usual places? Robin's office? The canteen?"

"Yes, and yes," Alex let her breath out slowly and started to walk towards Simon in the doorway, leaving behind Kim's wall of pictures and achievements which she'd been studying attentively. Somehow Kim and Robin's anti-beard awards had travelled through time with them. "I'm sure she's fine."

"You keep saying that," Simon pointed out and Alex bit her lip.

"Yes," she sighed, "I do, don't I?" She couldn't help worrying. She had a protective instinct when it came to Kim and Robin. Quite aside from her extra-curricular activities with Kim they had formed such a bond through the time they'd known one another that Alex wanted to make sure no one caused them any pain, which was easier said than done. Since Kim had discovered she was pregnant Alex had been even more protective of her. She didn't want to admit that Kim's absence was worrying her so the best way to deny it was to ignore it altogether. "Where's James?"

Simon's brow furrowed as he rubbed his eyes.

"Don't know," he said quietly, "I'm about to start looking for him. I wondered if Kim was here. I wanted to talk to her first. She's the only person I still need to... to..." he shrugged, not sure how to label what he'd been doing.

" _Put the spin on?"_ Alex asked, somewhat cheekily and Simon gave a strained laugh.

"It's not spin, it's _fact_ ," he said and Alex nodded, somewhat darkly.

"I know," she said tightly, "but as I'm sure you know, we need to see for ourselves."

"It would help if I could at least find him," Simon commented.

"Have you actually looked yet?" Alex asked, met with a silence and gave a sigh. "Why not?"

Simon shook his head.

"You know why not," he said, "nothing's changed in the last fifteen minutes."

"Go and find him," Alex urged Simon, "he'll be there, somewhere."

Simon nodded as he spoke

"I know," he said softly, not sure of that at all. If James was still on the premises, which he very much doubted, then Simon would have to face up to the fact he'd left him to fend for himself whilst he smoothed the path over elsewhere. He hoped he wasn't going to have to make a choice between those two options very often because he was already drowning in guilt and he couldn't find his armbands.

~xXx~

James shuddered involuntarily as he stared at the figure in the doorway. The light was against them so he had to strain to make out their features but as he stared a little more closely he felt something starting to twitch and jump in the back of his mind.

"Do I know you?" he whispered with a genuine question. As he spoke, the figure shifted a little and their features caught the light a little easier, binging a dark sense of anxiety across James's shoulders. His face took on the greyness of a man who'd waged a thousand wars as he whispered, " _I know you."_

"Yes," Kim nodded slowly as she took a slow step forward, determined to overcome the instinct to turn and run that had set in from the moment she's caught sight of him; the man who owned the same face she'd seen glowering and gloating at her over and over again, _"you do."_ She paused and bit her lip, feeling her heart speed up from the wisp of fear that sat on the edge of her memory, not quite intruding but making its presence known. "You do. You know me." She stopped in front of him and peered down at him, unable to equate the small-looking, feeble soul she'd heard crying aloud with the force of horror and fear who had terrorised all who stood for good and right. "Do you know..." she hesitated anxiously, " _how_ you know me?"

James looked at her.

" _N-"_ he began but almost instantly his expression changed. For a horrifying moment Kim thought someone had shot him in the chest, such was the pain that crossed his features.

"Are you OK?" Kim asked quietly, carefully adding, _"James?"_ to the end of her question

James didn't know how to respond and sat still and silent for quite some time, pinned into place with fear. There were fragments of memories just out of reach but they brought with them such strong physical sensations that he felt like he was being ripped into pieces by a pack of savage dogs.

He couldn't handle it; didn't know how to, couldn't stand the pain, then out of the thunderous clouds of darkness a tiny fragment of light shone through, blinding the wild-dog memories that threatened to rip him to shreds, then scaring them back into the dark. He stared at Kim as a strong, vivid memory played through his head.

" _I remember you,"_ he whispered. He swallowed very hard, his knuckles showing the strain as he clasped the back of his chair tightly, "you were there... in the hospital."

Kim blinked, more confused than ever.

"What hospital?" she whispered, "when?"

"My tape," James's mouth grew dry and he could barely form coherent sentences as the memory played on; "they made me watch it... I was... _dying_." He shuddered violently and shook his head, "but you were there. And the others... they just... _stared,"_ his gaze met Kim's and held it as he continued, "but _you_ ," he swallowed, trembling visibly by now, "you held out your arms," he watched Kim's expression as her lip wavered, "and you hugged me. You didn't mock me or yell or... or _anything_ , you just..." he spluttered, finding it impossible to finish his sentences. He choked on spittle, gasping as he tried to rein in the mix of confused emotions that were gnawing through him before he finally managed to choke out a question. " _Why?"_

Kim swallowed very hard, her tongue skimming her lips as they dried out fast. She remembered that day, she remembered it all too well. She doubted any of them could forget.

"Why what?" she whispered, hoping her voice was audible.

James was still shaking, and visibly so as he replied.

"Why did you do that? Like I was... like I deserved it? Like I was," he felt himself shudder involuntarily, " _human?"_

Kim's mind didn't even have a chance to think about her answer, in much the same way as she'd had no chance to think about her actions back that day.

" _Because you were,"_ her voice didn't shake, even though her body did, "you were as human in that instant as you are sitting here today." 

Her words couldn't have surprised James more.

"You don't see _him?"_ he whispered as Kim shook her head violently.

"No."

James swallowed.

"Everybody else did," he barely strung his sentence together, "they looked at my face and saw _him."_

"Well _I'm_ not _everybody,"_ whether she meant it to or not Kim's voice sounded a little cross with the whole idea of it, "I _can't_ be." She found herself shaking her head slowly, "not if I want to stay sane. Not if I want to survive this." She could see James's lips moving, trying to ask questions out loud that she didn't want to hear so she knew she had to become coherent fast. "They looked at you," she held her voice steady, "and they saw _it._ The monster. The other part of you -"

"He's no part of me," James voice rose for the first time, disgusted with the idea of it.

Kim changed her head-shaking to a nod briefly.

"Well, _good,"_ she interrupted her own flow, "Good. I'm glad to hear you say that. Because that's the only way you can survive this, too. The only way to keep yourself sane." She licked her lips and closed her eyes as she pulled her thoughts back on track. "They looked at you and saw him. _It."_ She growled with anger at the memory of Jim Keats, "that monster. The one who used your life and your body to run amok in this world, and others." She found herself panting slightly as her breath disappeared, _"I_ can't _do_ that. I _can't_ do that, because if I have to look at that monster's face every day for the next thirty years when I come into work all I'll see are the memories and flashes that I've been trying to bury for the past year. They want to see 'him' because they need someone to lash out at... something to channel all their anger and revulsion into so they don't want to look at you and see _you_... a man... because they'll have nowhere to channel all that hate. All that hurt."

James swallowed anxiously. He could hear sense behind Kim's words but there was so much he still couldn't make sense of.

"And what about you?" he whispered, "what about _your_ hate and hurt?"

Kim rubbed her eyes roughly, partly to stop herself from letting any errant tears escape and partly to give herself something to do; a distraction from her words as she tried not to let them affect her.

"Oh, they're _there,"_ she whispered, "believe me, they're not going anywhere. But mis-focused anger is what started this in the first place." She could see confusion on James's face and tried to give a short-hand version of the thoughts racing round and round in her mind. "You came to this world before; younger, a bitter man. You let what happened to you corrupt you and wanted to lash out at the world. The result... the result was the monster who inhabited your body for the past few decades. You made a deal with the devil and he took control. Eventually there was nothing left of the man you used to be. The man..." she let out her breath and tried to calm herself, "the man you are again." She looked at him, shaking imperceptibly, "throwing all my hatred and fury at you isn't going to get _me_ anywhere and it's not going to help _you_. I'll never heal from what -" he hesitated. She'd come so close to saying ' _what you put me through_ '. It was so fucking difficult to know how to phrase anything to do with Keats now, "- what happened," she continued eventually, "if I keep looking for reasons to remember." She moved a little closer, relieved James didn't reel back in fear. "So when I look at your face I don't want to see _him._ I want to see someone different. Someone human. Someone I can't blame for everything that happened to us. I want to see a man on his first day, not a monster coming back to haunt us again, and again, and again." She closed her eyes and wiped her hand against the leg of her jeans, then held it out towards him, trying as hard as she could to hide her nerves. "So, hi." Her words sounded stilted but they were sincere, "I'm Kim Stringer. Good to meet you."

James stared at her hand, scared that it was some sort of trick. He expected her to form it into a fist and punch him or to be hiding a hand buzzer that would give him an electric shock if he dared to touch her but neither happened as he eventually reached forward and clasped his shaking hand around her own. He felt a little like a child shaking a big, scary adult's hand for the first time, like he wasn't really sure how to do it. His handshake felt extremely weak compared to the one he received from her but it was genuine from both sides and that was the only important thing about it.

"Hi, Kim," he whispered. He cleared his throat and tried to talk a little louder as he continued, "My name's James. I'm Simon's new DI." She coughed, "DCI Shoebury's, I mean."

Kim felt a little awkward for so many reasons. The handshake was still sitting between them; despite Kim releasing her hand James seemed reluctant to let her hand go as though the moment he did she would start behaving like the others had to him, but she couldn't stand there with one arm out all day so she pulled hers back a little roughly and he let go.

"I heard," she said, clearing her throat. "About you and Simon."

James felt his anxiety return almost as soon as it had started to wane.

"Is... that OK?" he asked, not altogether sure why it wouldn't be, "Oh god!"

Kim frowned.

"Oh god what?"

" _I don't know!"_ James flustered. He realised that he'd been so scared about the reactions he'd get for working in the station that he'd forgotten to be nervous about the reactions he'd get to being in a relationship with Simon.

"Stop panicking," Kim held up her hand, "you might get a few homophobic insults from the Guv but aside from Marci's intranet gossip circuit -"

"The _what?!"_ James felt his anxiety rise again.

"You're not going to get any hassle for who you're with here. Not any more."

"Oh," James bit his lip, "good."

He'd barely had a moment to relax before a seemingly angry Kim loomed up in his face and a fist appeared from nowhere.

" _However,"_ she began, causing James to shriek, "I'm going to give you one warning and you'll do well to listen to it. You hurt Simon, _just once,_ just one _teeny tiny time_ and you're going to need a different stretcher for every bone in your body. Is that clear?"

James screamed and scrambled away.

"What happened to everything you were _saying?!"_ he cried, "All the stuff about not blaming me? Not thinking I'm the same as _him?!"_

"I'm not saying this as your colleague, I'm saying this as Simon's best _friend,"_ Kim told him sternly, "he's been through a lot, none of it good. He's spent a very long time alone and miserable, through no fault of his own." If truth be told she still felt a little guilty about that from time to time. "Simon deserves some happiness. He deserves someone who'll _make_ him happy. He seems to believe that man is you." she stared him in the eye. "Don't let him down."

"I won't," James's head shook, "I won't. I wouldn't."

"Good." Kim closed her eyes and her posture changed. The threat was gone, for now. James was. However, _very_ sure that Kim had Simon's back.

" _I'm glad,"_ he said quietly.

"Glad of what?" Kim frowned.

James didn't even realise he'd spoken out loud. He looked at her nervously and whispered.

"That he has you watching out for him." He fidgeted nervously in his seat, "I won't hurt him. I swear."

Kim stared at him and nodded slowly.

"Good." she hesitated, aware very suddenly of the silence that had fallen between them. She shuffled on the spot and slipped her hands in her pockets. "So...?"

James blinked.

"What?"

"So are you going to sit here on your own all day, investigating the dust under the desks, or are you going to come out of there and remind Simon he actually has work to do?"

James hesitated, his pulse rising from the thought of facing the rest of the station. The angry screams and furious glares he'd received that morning left a scar upon his new life. It was going to be hard to get beyond that barrier. But as he thought about Kim's warning he realised how many friends Simon had there... what they meant to him... yet even so he'd risked them all for their relationship and a chance for James to have a life of his own. That kind of courage helped James to make his decision, and as Kim held her hand out to help him to his feet there wasn't much of a decision left to be made.

"I can't really say no, can I?" he gave a nervous half-laugh and climbed to his feet.

"No," Kim told him, "you can't." she nodded towards the door. "You've already missed half your first day. Don't leave your DCI to do his own filing." She rolled her eyes. "Aside from anything he'll take all year about it." There was a tiny smile at the side of James's mouth. "Come on. _Go."_

James nodded with a strange feeling of warmth rising through his chest. He could still feel those ravaging dogs of guilt barking away in the back of his mind but if one of the people he'd scarred the most could see past the features he wore then maybe, in time, the others could too. That was a future worth fighting for.

With another nod he walked toward the doorway and passed Kim.

" _Yes, Guv,"_ he said.


	8. Chapter 7: Downing the Drink

**Chapter 7**

Marci looked out at all the naked people armed with their microphones and notebooks and wondered why she had to have such a vivid imagination.

The standard advice to _'Imagine them naked'_ which she'd been offered when she bemoaned to Jake that she was feeling anxious about the upcoming press conference had seemed helpful at the time but now she'd imagined their clothes away she was having trouble controlling her snickering. She'd attempted to turn it into a fake cough on at least three occasions, reaching the point at which Superintendent Fletcher had offered to get her a glass of water. Unfortunately she was so carried away by then that she started picturing him with no shirt and nipple tassels and had enormous difficulty in stopping the image from reducing her to a giggling heap.

The naked people had been fairly easy to talk to, however. Easier than she'd thought they'd be. She'd relaxed more and more as the press conference went on; her natural people skills came forth and she fielded difficult questions with ease. She started to realise that she was a natural. She'd found her niche. For the first time she started to feel as though she was moving forward in her career. It had been such a hard year that thoughts of promotion had been the last thing on her mind, but now she'd found a role that suited her she'd never felt so focused.

" _D.S. Fell will now be your go-to person for a statement on any ongoing or historical CID case, as well as leading a recruitment drive, aimed at bringing more diversity and progressive thinking into Fenchurch East,"_ Fletcher concluded his final speech, _"we're moving into the twenty first century with a new outlook and complete transparency."_

After the scandal surrounding Redlake and the fallout from Layton's manhunt, finishing with an explosive rooftop confrontation, there had been much outrage from both the public and from inside the force. The demand for change and transparency in the investigations that would follow brought the opportunity for people like Marci to move forward in their career with public relations roles that brought a whole new dimension to their work.

"D.S. Fell, perhaps you would like to say a few final words?"

Marci had been busy trying to re-clothe her audience and had only managed to clothe them enough to picture them all in novelty underwear but somehow managed to pull herself together long enough to look out at the sea of faces before her.

"Well," she began, clearing her throat, "I'd just like to remind you all that I am approachable and will be as forthcoming as I can be about our ongoing investigations. Mistakes have been made by Fenchurch East, just as they have across the London Metropolitan police force, but we are all human, and we are learning. We're happy to welcome all comments and criticism, and we'll take on board valid and appropriate suggestions. I want to work with _you_ as much as with my station."

Fletcher stepped back as someone handed him a package from which he pulled a brand new camera on a neck strap.

"DS Fell, on behalf of Fenchurch East station, I'd like to present you with this top-of-the-range, brand new _digital_ camera, which will help you begin your recruitment drive."

Marci felt awkward and self conscious as Fletcher reached forward to place the neck strap over her head like some kind of tropical garland. Still, it was worth it for the prize; the wonderful camera she'd been looking forward to receiving. Testing _that_ was going to be fun...

There was a smattering of polite applause as Marci flicked her hair out from under the strap and held the camera up in front of her face. Other cameras flashed, taking photos of her pretending to take photos of the crowd around her. She was kind of glad the battery hadn't been charged yet because she didn't really want to take photographs of Fletcher with his nipple tassels.

It took a few moments before she remembered the tassels were just a part of her imagination.

"Thank you," she said, closing down her press conference and turning to leave the stage. It had been the strangest morning but it had boosted her confidence in shovel-loads. She had a new role, her relationship was getting back on track and life was finally moving in the right direction. Well, aside from the nipple tassels, of course.

~ x X x ~

Gene was already halfway through pouring a glass of scotch when Alex walked slowly and a little awkwardly through the doorway. Nothing felt quite right. Nothing at all. She closed the door behind her and moved towards the desk with an awkward smile.

"I see you've been _Shoebury'd_ ," she said, causing Gene to down his measure fairly quickly.

"How the bloody hell did he manage to wrap us all round his bent little finger?" he huffed, grabbing a second glass, "and don't even _think_ about telling him what I just said because I'm _apparently_ only allowed one homo joke and I need time to cook up a masterpiece."

"My lips are sealed," said Alex as a glass shot across the desk, missed her by an inch and crashed to the floor where it broke into several pieces. _"Gene!"_

Gene scowled, but playfully.

"You were supposed to _catch_ the ruddy thing!" He admonished, "that always works in the movies!"

"This isn't one of your westerns," Alex rolled her eyes, scooping down to pick up the larger shards of glass. She set about disposing of them safely in the bin before eyeing up Gene as he placed another glass on the desk. "You'd better not be -" she began as the glass shot towards her. With quick reflexes, she reached out and stopped this one from flying off the table then sighed, exasperatedly. "Are you happy now?"

Gene held up the bottle and asked,

"What'll it be?"

"I don't think I have a lot of choice," Alex sighed and rolled her eyes but across her face there was a smile breaking out at the same time. She felt comforted to see Gene was still _Gene._ No matter what else was changing she could be sure her rock and her relationship would always be there. Plus she was grateful for the endless supply of alcohol when it was needed. It was a relief to watch Gene filling her glass.

"I'll need to lock away the valuables," Gene told her, "not having that snake slithering off with me scotch."

"Keats might be a lot of things but I'm pretty sure he has better things to do than steal your stash," Alex began, flinching a little as she corrected herself, " _James_. It's James."

"Ahh, so you've been Shoebury'd, too," Gene observed, watching Alex carefully to gauge her reaction. She looked down, staring into her glass. Her eyes looked distant, her thoughts in so many places that it was almost impossible to round them up properly.

"I think we've _all_ been Shoebury'd," she said.

"It's like being _Tangoed_ without the redeeming feature of the happy slap," Gene grunted, bringing a little smile from Alex.

"Do you buy it, Gene?" she asked. She could see him trying to think of a humorous response to avoid the question and added quickly, "I mean Simon's speech, not the scotch."

" _Bugger,"_ Gene said gruffly. He poured some more scotch into his own glass and leaned back in his chair, his feet up on the desk. "Bolly, I've got no bloody clue any more. I feel like me mane's being trimmed. What the buggering hell is my world _doing?"_ A sip of Scotch washed across his taste buds, calming him a little with its familiarity. He swallowed and closed his eyes as he continued. "It's legit, Bols. He has papers. Nothing I can do about it, even if I wanted to."

"And do you?"

Gene's eyes opened and he looked at Alex, wondering what she meant by that.

"Do _you?"_

Alex looked away, not sure of her own answer. She drank some scotch and sank into a chair to contemplate her thoughts.

"Simon is adamant that he's beaten it," she said quietly. "Keats. Beaten the devil. _Whatever_ it was. The darkness inside him."

"Can't smell any forest fires yet," Gene commented.

"Could it come _back?"_ Alex asked quietly. She turned back to Gene and saw his expression mirroring her own. He had no idea either. "It could come back."

"It could go somewhere else," Gene commented. He recalled Robin's false charges earlier that year and cursed. "That cardboard-bonking bastard could be top of the tree by now. He seemed like a nice person to do business with if you've got horns and a tail."

"Maybe," Alex crossed her legs and sipped from her glass again. DI March was a nasty piece of work and there was absolutely no mistake about that but even so he didn't seem to have the same evil drives that Keats had been spurred on by during the dark ages. She stared into her glass again as she mused, "how can we tell? He looked the same, didn't he, Gene?" she turned back to the Guv. "Did you think he looked the same?" But before he had a chance to answer she flinched a little and shook her head, "No, he wasn't. Not _exactly_ the same."

"Got a better haircut?" Gene scoffed but Alex wasn't listening.

"His eyes," she whispered, "his eyes were different."

Gene wasn't sure what she was talking about, but this was a frequent occurrence. He felt sure she was three sentences away from needing a notebook.

"Had he been to Specsavers?" he joked but the look on Alex's face brought him back to sobriety.

"His eyes were alive, Gene," she said seriously, "they were _alive_. They were scared and nervous and looked _at_ us instead of _inside_ us."

"The only thing he'd find in _me_ is half a bottle of scotch," Gene mumbled but as much as he hated to admit it Alex's words had started to make sense to him.

"He looked like just another person. Another soul. Someone else looking for a second chance." Alex unfolded her legs and moved as though she was about to get up. "Do you have any paper? A notebook or -"

"I wish I'd gone to the bloody bookie and put a tenner on that," Gene sighed, thumping his glass on the desk. "You don't need a flip-chart to convince me, Bols, I saw the man. I _know."_ He shook his head, hating himself for agreeing with her on this one, "I know. I saw."

Alex looked at Gene with a deadly serious expression.

"I knew that face, Gene. I knew those _eyes_. I saw them staring into my head when he had me tied and bound, held against my will. I saw that face glowering at me, _and_ at _you_ , wielding power over Simon and Kim and anyone _else_ he'd made the focus of his darkness." She leaned toward him as she continued. "I looked at that face today and all I could see of him were his bone structure, his features, the things that can't be changed."

"A fist and a nose job could do the trick," Gene mumbled but for once he didn't even mean it.

"I forgot to look at the things that mattered," Alex continued.

"I'm bigger down there than him and that's a fact," Gene continued to throw in a flimsy attempt at humour but thy both knew it was only to cover up his discomfort at the situation.

"There was a new soul behind his eyes," she whispered "or an old one. One who'd never really had a chance."

"He _had_ a chance," Gene said, suddenly serious, "you know that. His grand entrance was no different to anyone else's. A twat on the head, a long sleep and, _bingo_ ," Gene slammed his hand down on the desk to prove a point, "second chance city. Another recruit. A new boy, wet behind the ears, given a chance to prove himself. And he did that." He grabbed his Scotch and downed the last of it, pulling a slight face as it stung a little on the way down," he proved himself to be an evil _bastard."_

"He was in a coma," Alex whispered, worried that Gene's raised voice would bring attention from the others, hard at work outside, "he remembered what had happened to him. That was _awful_ , Gene, we watched his tape."

"No worse than getting shot in the head," he said, looking her in the eye, "or torn up in a car accident, or stabbed in the guts," he shuddered, "or twatted on the head with a bloody computer."

"It was a _server_ , Gene, they're big and heavy," Alex sighed, but Gene did have a point.

" _You_ didn't grow horns, Bollyknickers," he told her, "neither did Simon or Batman or Stringer or anyone else in the Coma Club. He was the only one who welcomed the devil with open arms and slipped between the sheets with him for the best part of a couple of decades."

"He's not the same person now."

"What's stopping him taking a big leap backwards?"

" _Simon."_ Alex's word finally brought Gene to silence. He looked at her, almost blankly, waiting for her to explain further. "He broke out of that dark spell for Simon, and Simon's the one who will stop him from taking a big leap back."

"And if Simon loses interest in Keats's back entrance?" Gene asked, arms folded.

Alex let out her breath slowly and leaned forward.

"They're in love, Gene," she said patiently, silently amused as Gene squirmed at the mention of the L word. "I know you find this a difficult concept to accept but sometimes two people actually want to do more than just _'bonk'."_

"Stupid people," Gene mumbled, turning the colour of a ripe tomato.

"I think you're one of them," Alex smirked a little, trying hard not to laugh.

"You tell _anyone_ that and you'll be getting none of the other for a long time," he barked.

Alex smiled again.

"Oh well, it's Tuesday tomorrow..." she commented, watching Gene's expression turn from uncomfortable to furious in the space of half a second.

"There's nothing Stringer keeps under the bed that stands up to me prowess," he growled but Alex was laughing.

"I'm only teasing," she said softly, "and besides," she smiled, "we don't always _use_ the under the bed things."

Gene didn't know what to do; torn between covering up the _issue_ developing down below or taking a shower to wash off all the 'love' cooties. Eventually he decided a swig from his bottle would answer all his problems. He took the opportunity to think about everything Alex had said as he drank. He hated to admit that it all made sense, and he wished he could just ignore it all but this was something that affected his whole station, his entire world, and the lives of everyone who mattered to him.

"Sometimes even the _L_ word breaks down," he said seriously.

Alex closed her eyes and nodded slowly.

"I know," she said.

"What happens if the Jumper gets too much for Jimbo to deal with?" Gene asked, "or Simon turns his back on the Firestarter? What happens then? The flames come back and we sit around, toasting marshmallows while the devil gets his feet under me desk."

"Not going to happen."

"How do you know that Bols? Where's yer crystal ball?"

"I left it at home," Alex rolled her eyes, "I don't think that's going to happen, Gene. Simon's been hung up on him for as long as he's been breathing nineties air and James almost _destroyed_ himself to get rid of the darkness for Simon, from what I've heard." She shook her head slowly. "James is Simon's DI and like it or not he's also Simon's boyfriend." She could see Gene squirming again, "he's not _DCI Jim Keats,_ setting up his pencils in a lovely neat row. He's a detective inspector who will be spending the next year attempting to sort out the _mess_ that is Simon's filing and joining him on his investigations. And god knows, Simon's been needing help for a very long time."

"Help? In which department?" Gene mumbled but the gravity of the situation was beginning to take away the humour from the moment. He looked seriously at Alex. "You sound like a convert."

Alex met Gene's stare as thoughts raced through her head. She considered his words and all he things she'd just said. There was so much to consider but those eyes kept coming back into her mind. She could still see them; innocent and alive. The person Simon brought to work that day wasn't Jim Keats.

"I think," she said quietly, "that I can give James a chance."

Gene nodded very slowly and pulled a face he didn't even realise he was pulling. His unintentional gurning covered up nervousness and doubt as he thought about everything they'd said and his earlier conversation with Simon. He thought back to Jim Keats; the darkness and the flames. There was none of that now. He hated to admit it but he could literally _feel_ it. The physical crackling in the air like stale static was no longer a part of James's presence. He was a man, _human_ , a newbie who maybe deserved a chance.

 _Maybe_.

"I told Simon he's on trial," he said gruffly, "and I suppose, as long as he's behaving and staying out of our way," he rolled his eyes, "and clearing that mountain of paper on Shoebury's desk before it needs planning permission to grow any further... then we can call a truce."

Alex nodded slowly.

"Agreed," she said.

She raised her glass to seal their agreement and they clinked, even though both glasses lacked much in the way of alcoholic drink. It wasn't going to be easy to adapt but together they could cope.

"A few extra fire extinguishers as a precaution might be a good idea, though."

For once, Gene's joke was spot on.

"I'll get the catalogue," Alex smiled.

 _Same old Gene,_ she thought to herself. Thank goodness some things never changed.

 **~xXx~**

 _ **A/N: Hey everyone – I just wanted to say a huge thank you to everyone reading and to let you know what's going on right now. As you're aware I've been having continued difficulties with my health and for the last month have been more or less offline. This week I rather unexpectedly managed to get a lot of writing done – in fact the rest of this fic is in the bag! There are 5 more chapters plus an epilogue and they're just waiting to be edited so they'll be going up as and when I can do so over the next week or so. It's felt amazing to get back into writing again and I can't thank you enough for still being here and following my stories.**_

 _ **A couple of weeks ago someone started reading my fics. I got an anonymous review on the first chapter of Out of the Window and now they're halfway through Strangers When we Meet. It seems strange to think people are still starting the journey right now when we've all come so far. I wish the reader had a FFnet account because I've been unable to reply to their anon reviews but I just wanted to say if or when you make it this far, I appreciate them all very much indeed and I hope you have enjoyed the ride!**_

 _ **Thank you so much for every review and every one of you who's still out there reading. Your support means the world to me. And to my beautiful Lucy-girl, you are the reason my world exists. Thank you for being my inspiration, you are my world xxxxxx**_


	9. Chapter 8: Return to the Norm

**Chapter 8**

"Is she still not back?"

Simon almost fell out of Kim's chair as the voice caught him unawares. He'd been spinning round and round, hoping that Kim would reappear but the room had been eerily silent, with the occasional exception when her DC stapled his finger to some paperwork and screeched somewhat more loudly than Simon would have liked.

"No," he sighed, sinking back a little into the chair.

"How long have you been waiting?" Alex asked.

"Probably since you left," Simon said somewhat awkward.

"I thought you were going to look for -" Alex hesitated. There was a moment of panic as she almost used the wrong name for their new recruit but finally she wrestled out the right one, _"- James,"_ she concluded and Simon blushed, looking a little guilty.

"I... was," he said, "I keep putting it off."

"Some boss you are," Alex commented, stepping closer to the desk between them.

"It's not teaching him my filing system that I'm afraid of," simon said awkwardly in a way that was very reminiscent of Gene. Very occasionally Alex could really see the resemblance between them and this was one of those times.

"It _should_ be," she told him, "I've seen how much paper you've got stashed under your desk and how little you have in your filing cabinet. Heaven help your new team." She sat down in a spare chair and joined Simon in spinning. "Why is Kim's furniture so much more comfortable than mine?!"

"Because she's scary," Simon shrugged and Alex nodded. She'd have given Kim the bigger furniture budget too. It wasn't worth losing a limb over.

"Yup," she agreed, "I can't argue with that." she spun around to face Simon again. "So what _are_ you afraid of?" she asked.

"Same as before," Simon admitted, "except worse, because more time has passed. So now he'll hate me even more."

"He's not going to hate you," Alex sighed, "he's probably hiding under a table somewhere, waiting for you to go and rescue him."

" _Alex!"_

"He looked terrified," Alex reminded him.

"I don't think he's going to hide under a table, even so," Simon sighed, but he couldn't disagree with Alex's statement. He had looked so scared. Simon's guilt was rising fast. "Shit. I've failed him. Totally."

" _I wouldn't say that."_

" _Shit!"_ Simon almost fell off his chair for a second time as a new voice caught him off-guard and Alex spun around in shock at the same time.

" _Kim?"_ She gasped slightly as she spoke, surprised by her sudden appearance.

"Kim, god, are you alright?" Simon scrambled up, somewhat confused to see Kim looking calm and relaxed, as though it was a normal day just like any other. She looked at him incredulously as she moved through the office toward him.

"I _was_ until some twat sat in my chair and left footprints all over my desk," she admonished, shoving Simon's feet back down to the floor and pointing in the direction of the door. _"Out."_

"Kim," Alex reached out and just about caught Kim's hand gently. She watched her turning around and tried to study her expression as carefully as she could. Catching Kim's eye, she asked softly, "Are you OK? Really?"

Kim hesitated. Her mind went back through the events of the morning so far and all the flashbacks that Keats's presence had caused before she managed to sort through her own confusion.

"Yeah," she exhaled hard as she spoke, "Yeah, I am. Truly," she added as Alex looked at her a little doubtfully.

"Its OK not to be," Alex said quietly.

Kim nodded very slowly.

"I'm OK," she repeated, "really. Just," she gave Simon another shove and this time he actually stood up, clearing the path for Kim to take a seat, "wondering why there's a mini-meeting going on in my office without me."

"We were _worried_ about you," Simon told her, sounding more than a bit whiny.

"We were," Alex nodded, "you've been gone a while."

"That's because I've been doing," she turned to glare at Simon, _"your_ job."

"What are you on about?" Simon asked, dusting himself down as though he'd been in a boxing match.

Kim sank back in her chair and plonked her legs up on the desk, one clunky boot after the other. She slowly unzipped one and slipped it off, rubbing her ankle.

"God, my legs are bloody swelling up already," she moaned, wriggling her toes as she rubbed her calf then slipped one hand down to her bare foot. Alex stared at Kim's bare sole and asked,

"Where have you been? On a sponsored walk?"

"Feels like it," Kim moaned, unzipping her other boot and tugging it off. She set her footwear on the ground with a thud and rubbed both ankles simultaneously. She wriggled her toes, glad to be free of her heavy boots for once and sighed.

"Right, _you,"_ she jabbed a finger in the air towards Simon, "go. You've got work to do."

"I need to find James first," Simon began guiltily and Kim glared at him.

" _That's_ the work I'm talking about," she said, "do better."

"What?"

"You're failing the boyfriend test," Kim told him, "go to your office and make amends."

Simon hesitated. He felt confused and wasn't sure what was happening. _One thing at a time._

"But Kim," he began, "I wanted to talk to you. I felt like..." he trailed off. He wasn't even sure what the end of that sentence was. "Kim -"

Kim shook her head.

"Simon," she said quietly, "we're good. Just go and talk to him."

Simon's heart started to race and thump inside his chest. The thought of going to talk to James was making his pulse rate rocket. Part of it was anxiety topped off with a sprinkling of guilt, but mostly it was the thought of just being with him again. He'd spent so much time worrying about James being angry with him that he'd lost sight of what was important.

Just being together.

"Right," he said quietly. He stumbled backward a little, making his way to the door. "But, Kim, if there's anything -"

 _"Simon,"_ Kim's tone sounded a little more aggravated, _"go."_

Simon's fear rose again, but this time it wasn't _James's_ anger he was worried about.

"Right," he said again, "I'll go. Back to work then," He looked at her as he stumbled toward the door and hesitated He clutched the door frame as he turned back to her and asked. "So, you've seen him? Have you talked to him?"

"Yes, and yes," Kim sighed as she rubbed her aching soles, " _You're_ the one who needs to talk to him. Go."

Simon bit his lip.

"Is he OK?"

Kim looked at him seriously.

"Yes," she said, "James is fine."

To hear someone else say James's name – his real name – sent a shiver of excitement through Simon's body and he felt himself starting to smile involuntarily.

"Right," he said.

"Stop saying _right_ and _go,"_ Kim commanded.

"Right," simon said again, then froze for a moment. "Sorry."

Kim watched as he finally left and rolled her eyes.

 _"At last,"_ she sighed, putting her hands to her forehead and rubbing it, "God, he'd an idiot."

Alex smiled and wheeled herself closer to Kim. She reached out and wrapped her fingers around Kim's achy feet and pressed her thumbs firmly against her soles which she began to massage. Kim was taken by surprise and let out a moan of contentment.

" _Ohhh,_ thank you _so_ much," she breathed, "that feels good."

"Sounds like you've been on an expedition," Alex pointed out and noted that Kim looked slightly guilty.

"Kind of," she admitted.

"So where have you been?" Alex asked, squeezing Kim's feet as she spoke, "I've been coming back to find you every few minutes."

"I'm sorry," Kim said quietly, "I needed some space. It was a fucking enormous shock when Simon brought his _plus one_ to work."

"It was, for _all_ of us," Alex agreed.

"I couldn't handle it at first," Kim admitted, "I felt like I was going to self-destruct. All I could see was _him,"_ her voice rose to a tone that made Alex start to worry, _"that face._ That monster. I spent months under his control, under his spell. More than once. All those horrible memories," she tapped the side of her head as she looked seriously at Alex, "we both know what it's like. Don't we?"

Alex felt a cold, hollow sensation inside of her as a million dark memories fell on her shoulders. Her head moved back and forth in a vague nod, like she couldn't quite bring herself to admit to it.

" _Yes,_ " she whispered, _"We do."_

"And that's what we all saw when he walked into this building," Kim continued, "but then I remembered how scared he looked and I knew I'd seen that look before. Those eyes."

Alex closed her eyes and let her head droop a little.

" _His eyes,"_ she said in agreement, "I know. I know exactly what you're going to say."

"They were human," Kim said quietly.

Alex nodded.

"I know," she said gently, "I saw that too."

Kim wriggled her toes a little as Alex's massage tickled her feet.

"I walked and walked, trying to clear my head," she whispered, "I talked myself round in circles, and then I heard him."

Alex looked at her expectantly.

"Keats?" she whispered before cursing, "I meant, James."

"It's gong to be really, _really_ fucking hard not to keep doing that," Kim admitted, She ran a hand through her bleached spikes, showing a glimpse of dark root and closed her eyes for a moment. "Ma'am, I heard him crying. He was in real distress."

 _"Crying?!"_ Alex couldn't quite believe what she was hearing.

"He was scared, he didn't know what to do. I talked to him. I don't know if what I did was right, but -"

"No, it was," Alex interrupted, "I mean, I'm as sure as I can be. That was the right thing to do." She paused, "It sounds like he needed something. Some _one."_

"I don't even think he remembers all the things he did," Kim said quietly, I'm not sure he remembers much at all. He started to remember and it looked like his head was going to explode. Ma'am, I didn't know _what_ to do."

"Well, whatever you did, it sounds like it was the right thing," Alex said gently. She ran her hand across Kim's toes and gave them one last squeeze before she got to her feet slowly. The scotch has gone to her head a little. "And you did the best thing for Simon as well."

"Couldn't have him sitting in my chair, leaving his big arse-print in my seat," Kim said huffily but Alex gave her a cheeky smile.

"Yours is bigger," she said, leaving Kim's jaw dropping and her cheeks reddening. She took a step or two towards the door before turning back to Kim and saying, "but I meant what I said. You don't have to be OK. And if you're ever not OK, you always know where I am."

Kim hadn't recovered from Alex's comment about her posterior yet. She cleared her throat and pulled her legs back down from the desk, planting her feet firmly on the floor. She took a deep breath, slightly overwhelmed by the events of the morning. She was OK, at least for now. Knowing there were people who cared about her made that easier.

"Thanks, Ma'am," she said quietly, "the same goes for you. I'm always here."

Alex gave a cheeky grin.

"You weren't this morning," she commented and Kim gave a laugh of amusement.

"Someone's got their sarcastic hat on today, haven't they?!" she commented and Alex laughed.

"I think Gene may have given me the good stuff," she said, feeling slightly light-headed again.

" _Don't wanna know!"_ Kim cried, throwing her hands in the air to much amusement from Alex.

"Not like _that!"_ Alex reassured her as she headed out of the doorway. She peered back in for a moment. "Besides," she winked, "It's Tuesday tomorrow."

Kim blushed and grinned as Alex left the room, then drew her bare feet back up onto the desk and flexed her soles. It had been a hard morning and the day was only halfway through. However, she had a feeling they were all going to survive the latest storm. They were made of tougher stuff.

" _Yeah,"_ she sighed, _"we're gonna be fine."_

She reached out and lifted the phone on her desk, jabbing at the first speed dial number.

" _Chief Inspector Thomas?"_

Instantly any remaining stress faded away.

"Hey, it's me," Kim said, a smile crawling over her face. Hearing Robin's voice helped to ground her in a moment. "You want to go for some lunch?"

It really was good to know that some things never changed.


	10. Chapter 9: Facing his Face

_**A/N: Hey guys, I just wanted to say thank you so much for reading and reviewing. It makes me so happy whenever I get a new review, whether on my current fic or from someone reading my old stories for the first time. There are three more chapters and an epilogue of this reasonably short fic and then the next big story begins, which I am considering attempting to attack for NaNoWriMo, although I am also thinking about writing a bonus side adventure. I've got some possible ideas about giving some of my OCs a fun outing on fictionpress or writing a smaller fic that fills in some missing time (maybe between older fics or missing conversations that have happened in canon but never appeared in writing). Whatever I end up choosing I'm determined to have more to share through November. I hope you are all having a great weekend!**_

 **Xxx**

 **Chapter 9**

Simon's heart was doing loops of his chest as he walked quickly down the corridor and hesitated momentarily outside his door. This all felt very strange indeed, from so many angles. Even looking at the situation from a purely work-based perspective it had been some months since he'd had help in his department. He'd been keeping it running since the fire and explosions had wiped out his entire team. Now he was gaining two new members in one day. It was gong to be just as strange having Marci around as it was James.

But from a bigger perspective the day had been mind-blowing. Whilst it had taken time and a lot of fast talking he felt now as though everyone who mattered to him would allow James to work beside them. Perhaps not welcome him, but not shun him either. He hoped Gene would be on his best behaviour and still worried that some of his friends would break their promises and turn on James at the first opportunity, but he also didn't think that opportunity was going to come. James wasn't Keats, and for the first time he wasn't the only person who knew it.

He could hear the unfamiliar sound of filing as he looked around the doorway in time to see James wrestling a handful of folders into a filing cabinet, then closing the drawer and attempting to press it shut with his backside. As he gave up getting the last centimetre closed he sensed a presence watching from the doorway and his eyes turned toward Simon. The very sight of him pushed James's lips upward into a smile and he moved from the filing cabinet toward him instantly.

"Hey," Simon smiled anxiously as he ran his fingers through his wavy hair whilst James wiped his hands against his trousers.

"I didn't know where you were," James told Simon, feeling a little awkward, "and I didn't want to sit around drinking lattes all day so I made a start on all this filing."

"Nothing wrong with drinking lattes all day," Simon told him, "that's how Gene makes a living." He hesitated for a second but couldn't hold back any longer. He needed to grasp James and to feel his heart beating away so his arms grasped him quickly and he pulled James closer in a hug that surprised both of them.

"I'm sorry I ran," James said quietly, relieved to feel Simon's arms around him. Since the day he'd broken free from the dark energy the two had only been apart for a few minutes at a time. They'd been more or less joined at the hip. It felt strange to spend any length of time apart.

"Sorry? James, there's no need to be sorry," Simon closed his eyes, relieved to feel the warmth of James's body against him, " _I'm_ the sorry one. I'm an idiot and a twat."

"Has this got anything to do with your filing?" James asked and both of them laughed a little nervously.

"No," Simon told him, finally letting his arms drop as he let James go and stepped back a little, "I'm sorry for leaving you to fend for yourself."

"I'm not your escaped guinea pig," James told him and simon rolled his eyes, recalling an incident with his furry lodger some week or so earlier.

"I know," Simon laughed softly. He pulled a chair closer and indicated to James that it was for him, then took his own from behind his desk and parked his backside in it. Rubbing his eyes he continued with a sigh. "But I still left you. We both knew this was going to be a difficult day but somehow I still managed to mess things up. I should have followed you but I wanted... _needed_ to talk to them." he sighed again, "all of them. I needed them to understand you. I'm not letting them destroy your life here."

"They won't," James said quietly, _"I'm_ not going to let anyone do that. I'm here to be with you." he paused, "And for myself. I won't let them spoil anything."

"I'm still sorry though," Simon reached out and took James's hand as he spoke, "if I could have split myself in two, I would."

"I probably needed that time alone," James admitted, "I think it did me good." He paused and looked awkward as he said, "I talked to someone."

Simon nodded.

"Kim?"

James looked surprised.

"How did you know?"

"I saw her," Simon told him, "She said you were doing fine."

James nodded.

"It's true," he said, "I am." He could see some doubt in Simon's eyes and he completely understood that. He'd made a complete fool of himself by running away and crying like a baby. The morning had been overwhelming and he'd been fleeing from more than a few angry faces. He'd fled from his memories too. Truth be told, he was still on the run from those. They'd almost caught him up when Kim found him but for the time being he was still a step ahead. "I mean it, Simon. I freaked out before, and I'm so sorry about that. I was an idiot and a complete wimp."

"You're not a wimp," Simon said gently with a sympathetic smile.

"Nevertheless," James said, grateful for Simon saying that but not quite able to believe he meant it, "I know I shouldn't have done it. I should have stayed and faced the music."

"The space probably did you good," Simon commented, thinking about his own dilly-dallying. He still felt guilty for not tracking James down sooner but having that time to come to terms with the big changes had done him some good too.

"Maybe," James nodded, "but I think talking to Kim helped more than anything."

Simon hesitated and started to play with his hair a little nervously. It felt bizarre to hear James talking about Kim so casually after the years spent knowing Keats with his evil desires on his best friend.

"What happened with Kim?" he asked quietly, "I saw her before."

"I know, you said."

"I thought... I thought she'd be," Simon hesitated. He was about to say 'a mess' but he realised he had no idea how much James knew of their history and didn't want tot trigger a memory that James wasn't ready to deal with yet. "...upset, maybe," he continued eventually, trying to sound more diplomatic, "but she seemed like her usual self."

James nodded a little.

"She seems really nice," he said quietly and Simon felt himself redden just slightly. There was a tang of jealousy to his words as he said,

"She's great. She's my best friend."

"She spoke to me like everything was normal. Like a human being," James told him. He ran his hand through his hair as though mirroring Simon's habit. He'd picked it up in the last few weeks fromliving with Simon and spending all his time with him. Simon found it flattering and it gave him a little boost every time he noticed it which helped to dull out that jealously. He knew he was paranoid; it was _Keats_ who'd been fixated and obsessed with Kim. James wasn't the same person.

"Good," He said quietly, "Good, I'm glad that happened. It looks like it helped."

"It did, a lot," James nodded, "I remembered some things."

Simon felt his heart give a little leap with anxiety.

"What kind of things?" he asked. He knew that one day James would have to face up to what he'd done when Keats was at the helm but for now he wanted James to have the opportunity to settle into his new job and new role without being troubled by the darkness fro his past.

"She was nice to me," James's words sounded childish and simple, "when there was," he paused, " _the video."_ His eyes closed involuntarily as he whispered, "when I saw myself die."

Simon flinched at the memory.

"I remember," he whispered.

"She was the only one who held out her arms," James whispered, "she looked at me like a human. Like a man. No one else had ever done that. Not since it took over." he shook his head with a sad sigh, "But then the darkness took over again and..." He flinched. There were other memories threatening to come out and he wasn't ready for that.

"I know," Simon whispered.

James looked at him very seriously and whispered,

"Do you think anyone else will be able to see me as I am now or will they always see," his voice cracked, _"him?"_

Simon stared at James. He didn't know the answer to that. He honestly didn't know whether they could get past the trauma they'd all incurred at the hands of Jim Keats to see James as someone different.

"Whether they do or whether they don't, you have every right to be here," Simon told him, "and none of them can take that away. This is your life now." He reached out and squeezed James's hand, "you deserve this. You really do."

James smiled back, even though his lips wobbled a little with worry. He knew every day could start the same way if the rest of the station couldn't see him as James. But he also knew they would be wrong to paint him in his old colours.

He was DI James Keats, on his first day at work. No one could take that away from him.

~ x X x ~

Marci slung her bag onto the back seat of her car and climbed into the driver's seat with her new camera still hanging around her neck. She closed the door and was in the middle of fastening her seat belt when she head a knocking at the window. Looking back she saw Fletcher standing beside the car and wound down her window to ask,

"Is everything OK, Sir?"

"Yes, oh yes, everything is fine," Fletcher told her, "Very good press conference. Excellent job, DS Fell."

Marci still hadn't managed to get used to hearing 'DS' at the start of her name and it made her smile.

"Thank you, Sir."

"There's one thing," Fletcher began, "I'd like you to put that camera to good use and start putting together a testimonial video to show at recruitment drives. Something about diversity within our station."

Marci frowned for a moment.

"Is that why I got the job sir?" she asked, "A black, bisexual woman; I'm like a walking advert for diversity in myself."

"You got the job purely on your skills and work ethic," Fletcher told her, "although a few scenes of you and your girlfriend holding hands wouldn't go amiss."

Marci rolled her eyes.

"Yes, because that's all girls do together," she mumbled then looked back at Fletcher. "Listen, Sir, I've got to get going because I've got a," she hesitated, reluctant to use the word 'date', especially after Fletcher's previous comment, _"lunch meeting._ Can you send me the brief for this video? I think the office email is working again."

"I'll do that," Fletcher nodded, "Thank you, Marci. And congratulations. A promotion you well and truly deserved."

Marci couldn't help smiling as she wound up the window and gave a goodbye wave. She felt like she was truly moving forward not just in work but in her life.

It was a good day. A _really_ good day.

~ x X x ~

" _Hey you."_

Kim's face broke into a grin the moment she heard Robin's voice. She looked up to see him walk into the room and close the door softly behind him.

" _Hey,"_ Kim got to her feet and walked round to the front of the desk, wrapping her arms around Robin's neck as he wrapped his around her.

"Are you dong OK?" he asked her gently and she nodded against him.

"Yeah," she breathed, relieved to be back with him, "you?"

It took Robin a moment to start nodding to.

"I wasn't," he said quietly, "but I am now."

"Ditto," Kim told him. She felt his arms tighten around her and hers did the same.

"Simon had a talk with me," he told her, "made me think about a lot of things."

"I think he was trying to have a talk with me, too, "Kim sighed, "but I ended up cutting out the middle man I talked to _him_ instead."

"To who? Simon?"

"James."

Robin couldn't help but feel a little disturbed by the thought of Kim and James talking. There were so many reasons why that worried him but he tried to bury his fears and concentrate on what Kim had to say.

"And what did he say?" he asked, drawing back a little so he could see Kim's face as she spoke.

"He remembered something from before," Kim said softly, which made Robin's anxiety creep back in.

"What?"

"From a day long ago, just after you went home in ninety five," she whispered, "He'd been made to confront something terrible. His own death tape."

Robin found himself introduced to a whole new experience; actually feeling sorry for Jim Keats. _James_. He still couldn't make that correction in his head.

"Shit, that's harsh," He commented.

Kim grabbed her chair and pulled round so they could sit down together as their conversation continued.

"He had a flashback," she said sadly, "he looked like he was going into meltdown." She sighed and put her bare feet up into Robin's lap, taking him a little by surprise.

" _Oh,"_ he exclaimed.

"Sorry, my feet are killing me and my ankles are swollen," Kim sighed.

"You need to take things easy," Robin reminded her.

"I'm fine," Kim sighed, "or at least I _will_ be if you rub my feet.

"Cheeky git," Robin laughed, grasing her feet and running his fingers up and down them gently. She leaned back, closed her eyes and moaned softly.

" _That feels good,"_ she sighed.

Robin bit his lip as he continued to massage her aching soles, nervous of asking anything else because he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know the answer but eventually he began,

"So what else did he remember?"

Kim's eyes opened and she looked back at Robin.

"He remembered I was the only one who treated him like he was human," she said, "because... in that moment, he _was_. Seeing his tape... it was the first time I really saw the human side of him. First time _any_ of us did, I think. But in seconds ,he changed again."

Robin bit his lip again

"Was that all?" he asked.

"It was the only thing the told me," Kim sighed, "although before that happened I could see he was remembering the bad stuff," she hesitated, almost scared to admit to herself, "the things he did to me."

Kim could feel Robin's grasp on her feet tightening as his concern grew.

" _Shit,"_ he whispered. He looked at her seriously and asked, "And you? H-Have _you_ been remembering too?"

Kim looked down and swallowed. Her heart raced a little as she admitted,

"Some things came back. It was impossible not to let them. But I fought them away. And seeing him as a man, a human – that helped too."

Robin chewed on his lip a little more and asked,

"It did?" He watched Kim nodding, "really?"

"I think it was the only way to see for sure," she said, "to see that he's not Jim Keats any more.

"You _really_ think he's different?" Robin asked.

Kim nodded.

"I think so," she said quietly, "Yeah."

"He's not Keats any more?"

Kim gave a slight shrug as the question was a hard one to answer.

"He's not Jim Keats," she whispered, "he's James. He's a human being. He's as scared as we are. Maybe more so. Seriously, Rob, I looked into his eyes and there's not a trace of the dark side. Not any more. There's fear and hope and good old fashion human emotions. He's _alive."_

Robin felt his heart-rate rising as his mind thought through everything that Kim had told him and he started to consider something he never could have imagined doing before.

"Do you think it helped you cope with this, being able to talk to him?" Robin asked, "seeing the changes?"

"Definitely," Kim nodded and paused. "What are you thinking, Rob?"

Robin didn't answer at first, partly because he didn't know what to answer and partly because he was distracted by his thoughts.

"What?"

Kim slipped her feet from his grasp and let them fall to the floor so she could lean closer and hold Robin's hands.

"What are you thinking?" she asked again softly in a tone she saved exclusively for him. Robin's downward stare helped to answer her question but she already knew the answer. "Do you think it would help if you talked to him too?"

Robin glanced up. It felt as though Kim had ripped the thought straight out of his head. He gave her a nervous smile.

"It had crossed my mind," he admitted. Holding her hands with a squeeze he asked, "What do you think?"

Kim took a deep breath.

"I can understand why you're thinking about it, Rob. And honestly, it did help _me_ a lot. I think I can deal with him being here."

"Do you think it would help me, too?" Robin asked and Kim gave a tiny shrug.

"I can't predict the future, but," she took a deep breath, "all I can say is that it made a big difference to the way I felt. And we're about as similar as two people can get without the act of cloning." She watched a little smile break out on Robin's face, "so I'd say," she nodded and paused, "I'd say you'll probably get about as much out of it as I did."

Robin nodded slowly. She was right. She usually _was_.

"I think so too," he whispered. Taking a deep breath, he continued, "problem is, how would I even go about doing it? I can't talk to him, Kim, I _can't!"_

" _Hey,"_ Kim looked deeply into his eyes, "there's no pressure, no need to do anything you're not ready for. James isn't going to vanish into thin air. If you're not ready today there's always tomorrow, and the next day, and next week, and so on."

Robin nodded and stared just past Kim, his unfocused eyes settling on a spot on the wall. She was right, he knew that. He _also_ knew what he was like.

"The longer I leave it, the harder it will get," he whispered, "if I don't do it now I might never do it."

"Rob, are you certain you're ready?" Kim asked seriously, "I meant everything I said, I really think it can help you too. But I don't want you to leap in before you're sure and regret it later."

Robin shook his head slowly.

"I won't," he said, "at least, I don't think I will." He shrugged, "I can't predict the future either. But it's got to be better than feeling the way I'm feeling right now. That doesn't mean I'm not OK," he added, "just... just that there are always going to be -"

" _'Things'_?" Kim asked and Robin nodded. They knew each other inside out. They knew the way each other's minds worked and Kim knew exactly what he meant.

"Yeah."

Kim exhaled as she grasped Robin's hands and looked at him seriously.

"I could go and talk to Simon," she said quietly, "ask him if James would be up to talking with you."

"Do you think there's a chance he'll refuse?" Robin asked. There was a part of him that was still too scared to talk to James, even though the bigger part of him know it would help him and was ready to face that moment. He knew if James didn't want to speak to him then the matter was taken out of his hands and he would be let off the easy way. At the same time, he knew that wouldn't solve anything.

"I don't know," Kim said honestly, "but we can only ask. It's been the hardest first day already. James might not be ready yet, but if we don't ask, we don't know."

Robin bit his lip and started to nod slowly.

"I think," he began quietly, "that I'd like to ask."

Kim nodded and squeezed Robin's hands.

"I can help you start things off," she said, "I can go and talk to Simon? Or James, if he's in there?"

Robin nodded slowly.

" _Thank you,"_ he whispered.

Kim looked at him seriously.

"Are you ready now?" she asked, "or do you need time?"

Robin wasn't completely sure herself but with a deep breath said,

"No, I'm ready. I need to do this now."

Kim watched Robin get to his feet, then hauled herself out of her chair and grasped his arm, taking it in hers.

"Let's go then," she said quietly.

She could see the determination on Robin's face. She'd rarely seen him with such a strong firmness of purpose. She knew herself how difficult this was going to be for Robin, but she also knew how much he was going to get from seeing for himself that Jim Keats was dead and buried.

James wasn't Jim. Robin was about to see that for himself.


	11. Chapter 10: Brothers in Harm

**Chapter 10**

"No, those go in the other filing cabinet."

"You say that like there's only two!"

"The one with all the boxes of papers stacked on top!"

"That only narrows it down by half!"

Simon laughed as he watched James shuffling files and rearranging his admittedly poor filing system. It wasn't exactly James's job to do the paperwork but so many comments had been made to that effect that it seemed to have become his first task. Simon knew he was bad with his filing. The fact that he'd been holding up the Hi-Tech crime department by himself wasn't the strongest of excuses since he knew he'd had plenty of opportunities to get his paperwork in order. Still, this was a new start, for several people.

"Marci should be back soon," he said, looking at the clock, even though he hadn't seen its hands move in years, "she's brilliant. You'll really like her."

"Marci?" James repeated, dusting himself off and grabbing another pile of papers.

"She was the one person I could talk to," simon hesitated a little shyly as he remembered the cups of tea Marci had plied him with and the friendly ear she'd lent him, "about you. Before, _you know."_

They were never sure how to describe that night; the one in which James overpowered the darkness and Keats was banished to the past. They rarely spoke of that day but when they did it would usually be described as, ' _you know'._

James stopped filing and looked at Simon, feeling a little strange.

"What did you tell her?" he asked.

"Stuff," Simon felt a little coy about the idea of James knowing how deep his feelings had been even before they were able to be together. "You. That there was someone I liked and people didn't approve."

James gave a nervous laugh.

"Understatement Central," he commented and Simon smiled.

"She's good to talk to. Good for a laugh. Always the first to get you a cuppa when you need one and the first to get in a round at the bar."

"Sounds like the kind of person I need to meet," James joked, relaxing a little.

Simon leaned back in his chair, swivelling slightly from side to side, noting that Kim's chair had much more swivelability than his own. He also noted that he'd just invented the word 'swivelability'.

"She never judges," he said, "does love to gossip but never has a bad thing to say about anyone," he crossed his legs, "unless the canteen woman's on a colander rampage again."

James blanched and shuffled back nervously.

"Um," he coughed, "Maybe I should have brought sandwiches."

" _Hey."_

Simon and James looked around to find Kim peering around the door. She seemed anxious and uncomfortable which wasn't like Kim. Simon was used to her barging in and either attempting to wrestle away his jumper for disposal in the furnace or dragging him off for lunch.

"You OK?" He asked curiously.

"Yeah, I'm," Kim's eyes scanned across the room until she found James - a pile of papers still in his hand - about to brave the filing cabinet again. She found herself feeling more nervous and cleared her throat. "James. Hello again."

James, for his part, seemed just as anxious.

"Hello again, Guv," he said, straightening his posture a little.

Kim stepped a little further into the room, looking a little shorter than usual which, Simon discovered, was down her lack of boots, shaving a good inch or two from her height. She scraped one, bare foot against her other leg as she tried to act as naturally as possible. The sight of James had thrown her momentarily. She hated herself for it but that first glimpse had been of Keats in her mind. She couldn't help it. It wasn't a conscious thing. Her eyes settled upon the features of someone who'd hurt her repeatedly over a number of years. The fact that the man behind the face was as different as could be from the monster who'd peered through this eyes at her came to her as a secondary thought and she took a few seconds to get her emotions in check. She closed her eyes for a split second and took in a very deep breath. She knew this wasn't Jim Keats but it would take time for her mind to rewire those alarm signals that had been set up over time.

"How are you getting on?" she asked him as though everything was as normal as could be, "are you doing OK?"

"Oh, yeah," James put down the papers in his hands and wiped the dust from his fingers, "well, apart from the filing..."

Kim gave a nervous smile and found James aiming one back in her direction.

"That's good. That's great," she said quietly, "Um," she cleared her throat, unsure how to continue. She glanced at Simon and then back at James. "James. I was wondering... I was hoping you might be up to... the idea of talking to someone."

James bit his lip and pushed back his hair.

"Who, Guv?"

Kim swallowed and stepped back, reaching for the hand of a figure bathed in shadows. As she gently led him in, his features were revealed by the light and James felt a little trickle of panic infiltrating his chest, just for a moment.

" _Oh,"_ he said quietly.

"Rob would like to talk," Kim said gently, "if... that's OK?" She paused as James seemed to consider how he felt, "it's... it's OK if you're not ready." She glanced at Simon who seemed surprised and a little unsure. "Simon? Is this OK with you?"

"I'm not James's keeper," Simon gave a small shrug, "I'm not sure what's going on?"

Robin stepped forward. He glanced over at Simon and gave him a wobbly smile that attempted to hide a whole barrel of fear.

"I just want to talk," he said quietly. He turned to James. "Do you... know me?"

James nodded silently. _Of course he did._ He remembered Robin – _barely,_ but he did. He recalled Robin like a character from a book or a play; almost like someone who wasn't real. Most of James's memories felt like that; separated from him by an invisible screen, like the glass of a television set or the rows of space between the cinema screen and the back row. The only thing that felt real was Simon. He'd been more than a little scared of setting that right. Now, he realised, it was time to try.

"Hi," he said quietly, "Chief Inspector Thomas." He hesitated and bit his lip, _"Robin."_

"If either of you aren't ready for this, then that's alright," Kim's voice was calm and steady. Simon stared at her, remembering the hot-headed DC he'd first met in 1995, scarcely believing that she'd matured into someone who could handle such intensely delicate situations with ease. Her hostage negotiation training had certainly filtered into other areas of her life, he thought to himself. She still had every bit as much bite as she once had but now could hone it and control it; using it where and when she needed to. At other times she could use her voice as a soothing instrument to spread water across the fires she encountered.

"No, I'd..." James began, stoping himself before he got very far into his sentence. He was scared of sounding too enthusiastic about talking with Robin because it really wasn't something he'd been looking forward to, but he knew it was better to get it out of the way sooner rather than later. "I'm OK." He looked a Robin nervously, "I'd like to talk."

"Rob?" Kim asked quietly.

Robin felt her hand grasping his arm which made him feel safe. The thought of talking to Keats was one that had filled him with dread and distress but the more he looked at James's face the less of the devil he could see. He might as well be talking to a stranger for the first time. _Shit._ That was a terrifying prospect in itself. He had never been very good with new people. He started to feel anxious all over again but for a very different reason. Eventually he realised he needed to pull himself together.

"I'm ready to talk," he said firmly.

Simon felt somewhat swept along by the event. He knew things were moving quickly but this was a matter between James and Robin, and it was a conversation that needed to be had sooner or later. Perhaps on this occasion sooner was better.

"Do you want me to stay here?" he asked but James shook his head slowly with a little smile.

"I'll be OK," he said, "we'll be fine. I think." He glanced at Robin who was pretending not to look at him but couldn't carry on hiding after James caught his eye.

"No, he's right, we're fine."

"OK," Simon said quietly with a tingling sense of anxiety in his fingertips that made him clasp and wring his hands tightly. He loved James, and Robin was still very important to him. He couldn't help feeling scared that a conversation between them would result in a shower of hurt on both sides. "Well..." he began to stand up," I can leave if you'd like to use the office for a few minutes."

"Oh, no, Si, I don't want to turn you out of your own office," Robin said, feeling a little guilty. He looked at James, becoming nervous again. "We could, um, go to the canteen or something. Do you want to get lunch?"

James opened his mouth to agree but had a flashback to Simon's comment about the colander woman and shuddered.

"Um, not really feeling hungry," he said.

"Really, it's OK, I'll leave," Simon told them, "take as long as you need. Or do you want me to wait outside? Just in case?"

"Just in... Si, we're not going to have a _fist fight,"_ Robin protested.

"Alright, alright, it's just an offer," Simon protested.

"I can wait here if you need me to," Kim offered quietly but Robin shook his head.

"Really, Kimmy," he said gently, "I don't need a chaperone."

"You'll need _surgery_ if you call me Kimmy again," Kim threatened which made Robin laugh softly. She glanced to James and asked, "And you...?"

"I'm fine too," he said, even though his mouth was feeling dryer by the second, nerves taking over his body.

"Alright." Kim gave them both a smile that seemed just as nervous as theirs, then watched Simon as he stepped out from behind his desk and walked towards her.

"I'll come with you," he said and Kim nodded.

"OK then." She gave Robin and last reassuring smile before she and Simon left, closing the door behind them.

Two dark haired individuals stood and stared at one another. It was a conversation that had been waiting in the wings for the last few years but neither knew how to start it. Robin found himself licking his lips as they felt dry rather suddenly. He stared at Keats, taking in every feature of his face. Beyond the dark hair and eyes there were so many similarities between them; echoes he admittedly saw when he looked in the mirror. He shuddered as he remembered another day, a long time ago, when he'd been staring at that face. A very different situation, a different place, and – to his surprise – different eyes.

That was Jim Keats. This, he realised slowly, was not.

"So," he began. He cleared his throat and shuffled awkwardly, hiding behind the segment of hair hanging down over his face, providing that little sense of shelter that made him feel safer sometimes like a barrier between him and the world. He looked nervously at James and took a deep breath. "I should say hello properly. I suppose."

James nodded, just as awkward and anxious as Robin.

"Hi," he whispered, "Nice to meet you." It sounded so trite, it felt so awkward and contrived but how else were they to begin? Robin tried to smile but it didn't seem to work very well.

"Hello," he managed to say. He knew he was shaking physically. He only hoped it wasn't visible. "What..." he tried to keep his voice steady, "what do you know about me?"

James swallowed.

"I know that we share a father," he said awkwardly with a little shrug.

Robin felt a cold sense of dread pass through his veins. Just thinking about that cruel and evil man sent him cold all over. He shuddered and clenched his fists until his fingernails began to dig into the skin of his palms. It was only the sharp sensation that stopped him and brought him back to the real world.

"That's a lovely subject to open with isn't it" he asked with a flurry of nervous laughter.

James nodded slowly.

"I always used to want a brother," he said quietly, "I was a lonely bozo as a child. Needed someone to play cops and robbers with. Only so many times you can arrest the same teddy." He paused and gave a slight smile, "he gets wise and starts escaping out the window after the first five or six times."

Robin found himself laughing, caught completely by surprise.

"Apparently you're funny too," he commented without sarcasm. He looked down for a moment, smiling as a little of the worry faded from on his shoulders. He wasn't the only one. James visibly relaxed just a little and flicked his gaze to Robin with a smile.

"Thanks," he said quietly. He wasn't used to hearing things like that about himself.

Robin scuffed his toe against the carpet and took in a deep breath.

"You remember _that_ much, then?" he asked, raising a nod from James. "And you remember being a kid?"

"Mostly," James said nervously, "sometimes I remember more than others. It disappears again."

Robin's heart was beating harder than usual; he knew that much.

"What else do you remember?" he asked with a whisper.

James shrugged and stared downward like a child being interrogated by the head teacher.

"I know you're not going to believe me when I say this but it's like a blank book," he said, "my brain's like... like a computer set back to factory settings."

That line was the kind of thing Robin might have said himself a couple of years ago, he realised. It made him smile, if just for a moment. Without the darkness James's true personality was coming out with every word. He could understand why Simon had been drawn to him although there was a distinct strangeness about seeing the man he'd once shared his life with in love with somebody else, let alone someone who shared half his genes. That thought started a wave of pain and dread throughout every inch of his being as a memory came back to him, drenching him with

"Do you remember finding out we were related?" he asked eventually and James's face seemed to pale visibly in an instant. There were thoughts in his head which were busily unpacking themselves and he wasn't sure he was ready for that to happen yet.

" _Some parts are there,"_ he said in slow, measured tones, as though trying to hold a conversation whilst mentally engaged in a TV programme, "I remember there was a photograph," the memory unpacked a little more of its fearful content as he spoke, "It was mine. _No!"_ He quite suddenly threw a hand to his head as the memory stabbed him all over like the prongs of a fork, "it was yours. _Your_ photo, _my_ father." his eyes returned to Robin and he looked straight at him, head throbbing; _"I saw him in your photograph._ You didn't know." his head drooped and his eyes closed. " _Neither_ of us did, until that day." He tried to remember what day it was but his memory blocked him from accessing that information. "What... _day... was_ it?"

Robin stumbled back a step and pressed his hand against the wall to steady himself. That day was one he'd spent years trying to forget. He'd reached the point where it was locked away in his long-term memory and only accessed if he needed to go rummaging in the archives of his mind. He'd worked hard at forgetting and he didn't even have the excuse of being possessed by the devil. His memory block was of his own making. He forced himself to press on, even though he knew his voice was shaking.

" _That doesn't matter,"_ he said quietly, "just trust me on that one. You don't want to go back there."

James shuddered. He already knew that. He didn't know _how_ , but he did. It was _there,_ buried in his mind, and he knew there would be be a solid reason why his mind had tunnelled down for miles before leaving those memories in a place they should never be found again. But the curiosity became so hard to ignore sometimes.

"I remember a river," he said quietly, "and a boat."

"James, _don't_ go there," Robin said quickly. Christ, he felt like he was going to self- _destruct_ at the prospect of confronting that day. He couldn't even _begin_ to imagine what would happen to Keats. His head would probably explode and the universe would end. There'd be nothing but a pair of Keats-legs sitting there with a few lumps of flotsam and jetsam rotating around it.

 _James. For fuck's sake. Its James. Not Keats,_ Robin admonished himself. Shit, how was he _ever_ going to get used to changing the way he addressed James in his mind?

He struggled to forget that name. _Keats._ It was engraved into every bad memory in his head. He knew that was unfair to James; a man who'd stepped back into a body held hostage so long ago to find that its' decades-long joyride had been one of devastation and death to all who had the misfortune to cross his path..

" _I don't remember,"_ James whispered, his head moving slowly from side to side, "I don't know why but I don't. I _can't."_

"It really doesn't matter," Robin told him, "I just... you don't..." he stumbled over his words. That day needed to stay buried, at least for now. He felt a giant lump in his throat that resembled an ostrich egg as he choked out a question to move forward with their stilted conversation. "Do you remember him?"

James hesitated.

"Our father?" Robin nodded. "Not really," James admitted, "I was too young. I don't remember much about him. I remember _hearing_ about him. I remember my mother telling me he was a waste of space. Telling me she was scared I was going to -" he paused and flinched, "turn out like him." He felt his heart become heavier inside his chest, "I don't remember much about anything but I'm guessing that I- _I did."_

Robin hung his head. He couldn't exactly deny that, but also know it was the last thing James needed to hear. He cleared his throat and promptly changed the subject.

"I need to know something," he said, trying to make his voice sound strong and confident even though inside he was trembling with the force of an earthquake, "you have to answer me honestly, James. There's no point in lying."

James's eyes met Robin's and glistened with a trace of a tear that he wouldn't allow to fall. Remembering his childhood brought a pain inside of him that wasn't going to leave for a long time but he needed to focus on one thing at a time.

"What?" he asked.

"Do you hate me?"

Robin cursed himself. His words sounded so childish. He might as well be a kid on the playground who'd been pinched and bullied in his lunch hour. But he needed to know the answer and dressing it up into a fancy sentence wasn't going to change its meaning.

"What?" James asked nervously.

"We're going to have to work together sometimes," Robin pointed out, "we work at the same station, we're going to end up on the same cases now and then, we'll pass each other in corridors or in the canteen..."

" _Not_ in the canteen we won't," James interjected nervously, still thinking abut the angry woman on the colander rampage.

"And Simon's my friend. A really close one." Robin swallowed. He felt incredibly awkward and embarrassed as he continued; "we were together once. I-I'm not sure if he told you or... or if you remember..." He panicked a little that he might have spoken too quickly. It wasn't his place to tell James if he didn't remember.

"I know," James told him, "I-I _do_ remember... not much, just a little. Enough to know it's true."

Robin nodded slowly.

"We've been separated for a long time," he said, "but he still means the world to me."

"I'm not going to hurt him," James interrupted, "I promise." He looked both annoyed and anxious, "I've already had _one_ of you threatening me not to do that today."

"No, no, I wasn't," Robin seemed a little surprised, "I wasn't going to... although, I'm guessing I probably _should_ do something like that..." Robin wrinkled up his nose as he tried to think. He hadn't been in this position before. Simon hadn't been out with anyone since he and Robin had broken up. Well, there was Michael but that had never been serious. Robin had known how serious things were between Simon and James from the moment he and Kim had been told about their relationship. However, he was Simon's best friend and Simon was _his,_ both with the exception of Kim. Perhaps he _should_ be warning James not to break his best friend's heart. "Hold on, who else threatened you?"

"The Guv," James shuddered.

"Gene?" Robin's brow wrinkled. "I mean, DCI Hunt?"

James shook his head.

"Blonde one," he said, "DCI Stringer."

Robin's lips twisted into a smile despite himself and he felt himself grinning at the mention of Kim.

"Yeah, well," he laughed softly, "If Kim's threatened you already there's no need for me to do it a second time. She'll have warned you off for life."

"Too right," James said nervously and smiled.

Robin found himself smiling back. He felt torn inside; this was still James Keats. The Keats part wasn't going anywhere. But this was not the person who'd caused him and the people he loved so much pain. He breathed in and began again.

"What I mean is," he said, "Simon and me, we hang out a lot. There'll be nights we'll go to the pub or the night club. He might bring you along. He probably will... I feel bloody stupid for saying that, I mean, why would he leave you behind?" He sighed. "We'll see each other everywhere, all the time. If you have a problem with me I need to know. I'd rather get it out in the air sooner than later."

"I don't," James said quickly, "believe me, Sir, I don't."

" _You did."_ Robin knew he was overstepping the mark but the words just slipped out and he couldn't take them back. There was a part of him that wished James _did_ remember. He wanted him to know how badly he'd hurt them all. He wanted him to remember tying an unconscious Robin to the filing cabinet in his office, spitting in his face, threatening him, saying the words that scarred him deeply inside. He wanted James to remember scraping the blade of a knife back and forth across his chest, leaving scars that would never heal. He wanted James to recall drugging and using all those unfortunate people who fell under his spell. He wanted him to feel all that pain because he yearned desperately to hear one word; just one tiny, simple little word.

 _Sorry._

He wanted a real, full-force apology. It wasn't going to take away the things that had happened but it was a step closer and it was certainly something that Robin needed to hear in order to truly find closure.

But as he looked at James's innocent eyes there was another part of him that knew it would do no good, even if he heard it, because this was _not_ Jim Keats that he was talking to. This would be someone apologising on his behalf. It would mean nothing coming from a man who'd had no control over his own body or mind. Jim Keats was gone forever and Robin would never hear that 'Sorry'. He needed to accept that. He needed to force himself move on.

He saw James's face folding with the pressure of those evil deeds. Even though he didn't remember any of those things he still felt the guilt. Every time anyone mentioned something that took his mind anywhere close to where those memories were locked away he still felt the guilt strike with the force of a drunken elephant on an ice rink.

"Sorry," Robin mumbled, feeling a little guilty himself, "You didn't deserve that. I should know better." he looked at James, "I'm trying to be big about this and I'm failing, badly. I-I'm sorry. I'm not handling this well."

James gave a slight shrug.

"How are we _supposed_ to handle it?" he asked, "Don't think there's much of a prescient for this one."

"No," Robin smiled anxiously, "I suppose not." He looked down and concentrated on the scuffing of his shoe as he continued, "But... you did. You had a problem with me. _He_ had a problem with me," he corrected, "he hated me, more than anyone. Partly because of our father. Partly because of Simon. Mostly because for _some_ reason he was jealous," Robin still couldn't understand that, "I don't know why anyone would be jealous of me, but he was. He saw me as having everything he missed out on. Including Simon."

James sucked on his bottom lip until it made a sharp, squelchy sound and popped out of his grasp.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "I can maybe see why I felt like that. I hear people talking about you, and you seem like someone who's got everything together." He looked at Robin, "I'm not going to be the one to take that away from you. You don't need to worry. I've no problem with you, Sir."

"Good," Robin nodded slowly, "great. Thank you. Thank you, James." Every word felt awkward and stiff. He had no more idea how to talk to James than he did how to crochet a hat.

James coughed.

"And, um, do you have a problem with me?" he whispered.

Robin stared at him. James's features brought back memories of days spent in fear and pain but his eyes bore no scars from them. It would take time to get used to that but it would happen. If _Jim Keats_ ever showed his face at the station again then Robin wouldn't hesitate in showing him the door in the most forceful way possible. But James wasn't Keats.

"Of course I don't," Robin shook his head.

"And," James felt more nervous as he continued, "are you OK with me and Simon being a thing?" He found his cheeks reddening as he spoke. _Shit,_ what was _wrong_ with him? He often felt like a giddy teenager in love where Simon was concerned.

"Of course I am," Robin said earnestly, "I'm not a jealous ex. Promise."

James found himself smiling. He still felt a little overwhelmed by the events of the day but he was certainly feeling better for talking to Robin. They had exchanged only a few words from both sides but it was enough to help both of them confront the big white elephant in the room. Or, in this case, the station.

"Can I ask you something?" he asked quietly.

Robin nodded.

"Ask away."

"Our father." James's words set Robin on edge again.

"What about him?" he asked quietly.

"Can you tell me anything about him?" he asked, "all I know of him is what mum told me."

Robin stared at a spot on the wall just beyond James, reluctant to look him in the eye.

"It's not something you really want to know," he said quietly.

James closed his eyes, his head cast downward.

"I don't want to," he agreed, "but I think I need to."

Robin nodded very slowly. He understood that. But it didn't make it any easier to talk about.

"Maybe another time," he said softly, "I need time to work myself up for that."

James looked at Robin again.

"I suppose I do as well," he admitted.

"But," Robin continued, "I will. I'll tell you everything you want to know."

James's smile flickered.

"Thank you," he said quietly. He cleared his throat, feeling self-conscious suddenly. It felt like the conversation was winding up but he wasn't sure how to close the meeting of the Keats/Thomas bloodline. Was he supposed to say something or not? Give a closing speech? _Sing?_ He edged back until he collided with the filing cabinet. "Are... are we alright then?" he asked quietly, "we're not at war?"

"No, we're not at war," Robin promised with a nod, "we're... we're good." He had _never_ imagined saying that. Even after talking to Kim about James he'd never expected that talking to him could do him so much good.

"Is there, um," James coughed, "anything else?" he felt incredibly rude but he didn't know how else to finish the conversation," it's just, I have so much filing to do. God, Simon's..." he paused, blushing, "he's my..." he coughed, "yes, I like him a lot... but he's not been the greatest in the world at getting his papers sorted."

Robin laughed. He remembered how meticulous Keats had always been with filing and paperwork. It seemed that part of James was still alive.

"I understand," he said, "I didn't want to keep you from your work." He stepped back toward the door as though their talk had ended but something stopped him before he stepped outside the room and hauled him back in. There it was; the thing. Something burning deep inside of him. A feeling of discomfort and agitation that twitched and jumped inside his chest. He felt the ostrich egg return to his throat as he stumbled, stopped and fiddled nervously with his fringe, "There's just..." he trailed off, something stopping him from continuing.

James looked at him curiously. He gave an encouraging nod.

"What?" he asked.

Robin stared at him. There were questions he still needed the answer to but he wasn't sure how to ask. Eventually he cleared his throat and began,

"How much _do_ you remember about me?"

James stared at him. Was there something in particular Robin was afraid of him knowing? Or was there anything Robin wanted to tell him?

"I remember thinking you needed a haircut," he said jokingly which brought a nervous laugh from Robin. "I know we share a father," he said quietly, "and I know who you are. Is there something I should know?"

"No," Robin said quietly, "just.." He closed his eyes, "you used to say you were in my head," he whispered, " _you saw things._ Things in my thoughts."

James stared at Robin who looked very scared now: lost and anxious. There _was_ something, there had to be, but whatever it was James didn't know it, or at least he didn't remember it. He shook his head and looked him right in the eye.

"I'm not in their now, Sir," he said quietly, "and _'I'_ never was. It's like he's a different user logged onto the same computer. I don't have access to his private files. Maybe they're encrypted."

Robin smiled weakly. James's humour was winning him round and he felt certain that whatever Keats had prised from his deepest thoughts James had no access to. _But_ , he thought to himself, _if those memories are still on the hard drive somewhere then there's nothing to stop James cracking the password one day._ For now though, he had to resolve that his secrets were secure, or as much so as they'd ever be. James did not know the things that Keats had prised out of his mind. What he _did_ know was how to win over someone with cheesy jokes.

"OK," he said quietly. He cleared his throat and shuffled a little. "That's... good. _We're_ good. Its all good." He had never imagined he could feel so much at peace with the thought of someone who'd once been Jim Keats working on the premises. He wasn't sure what to do next or how to end their talk so awkwardly he began, "listen, it's getting late and I'm dying for a bowl of beans. Do you feel up to braving the canteen?" He saw James step back a little in fear of rabid colanders and that made him smile. "We'll _all_ go. That's if Simon and Kim are ready and willing."

James hesitated. It felt like a very unreal situation. Hours earlier he'd been enemy number one. Now he was on the promise of lunch with three people who didn't want to see him hung, drawn and quartered. Perhaps he would be OK after all.

"Sure," he said quietly.

Robin smiled and opened the door, stepping out into the corridor. He waited a moment and sure enough James abandoned his filing to walk across the office and join him on the quest for food.

Impossible bridges were being formed across a gulf of pain and distress.

Just maybe anything was truly possible.

 **~xXx~**

 **AN: Hey everyone! I just wanted to say thank you so much for the reviews and for continuing to read and support my fic series. I cannot believe how long I've been drawn into this world, nor what it had brought me. I am forever grateful for everything that's happened to me as a result of writing. Thank you so much for being there to witness the rest of this journey.**

 **Speaking of which there should hopefully be more to come in the near future because whilst I still have a couple of chapters of this story left to edit and post I'm going to try writing my next fic for NaNoWriMo to try to get more writing done than I have been able to for a long time. Whilst this fic has been strangely light and positive after a dark beginning the next fic delves deep into the nature of Gene's world once again and is shrouded in darkness, along with a large dollop of silly humour, as always. I'm excited and I hope you will be, too!**

 **Finally I want to take a moment to make a very special announcement. On halloween Lucy and I celebrated our three year anniversary of the day we first met IRL. One year from now I will be married to my beautiful fiancee; the Robin to my Kim. November 1st 2017 will be our wedding day! I haven't been on Facebook for a while but Charlotte, when you get to read this just be warned you'll be getting a message from me soon!**

 **Hope you all have an amazing week! x**


	12. Chapter 11: Two by Two

**Chapter 11**

"Do you think they'll really be OK?" Simon chewed his nails anxiously which brought an eye roll from Kim, followed by a pen thrown in his general direction.

"They're adults, they're not going to start pulling each other's hair out," she sighed, "Jesus christ, you've gnawed through at least three fingers since we've been in here."

Simon stopped chewing his fingers as though being caught by his mother and started spinning around in the chair. He tapped his fingers against the arm rests before asking,

"Why are your chairs so much more comfortable than the ones in my office?"

"Because I don't stand on mine, screeching at the top of my lungs thinking a mouse has run over my foot," Kim told him and his face reddened as his expression changed to a glower.

" _One time,_ Kim," he said tightly, "that was _one_ time."

"It wasn't even a real mouse," Kim reminded him, "it was that Halloween wind up thing Bammo had brought in for a laugh."

"I'm well aware of that," Simon said crossly as Kim laughed a little.

"I'm teasing, Simon, relax, would you?" she told him. She gave a sigh and reached for one of her boots. "They're going to be absolutely fine." She had her own reservations about Robin and James talking if she was honest, or at least she had until she'd seen the look on Robin's face as their eyes had met for the first time and he'd realised slowly that James was not the same man he'd known as Jim Keats. She let that moment play back every time she started to feel anxious about it.

"Kim?"

Simon's voice pulled her from her thoughts. She looked across to him as she slipped her foot into her boot and began to yank up the zip.

"Huh?" she asked distractedly.

Simon looked very serious suddenly which made her worry a little.

"What did he say to you?"

Kim pulled on her other boot and began to fasten it up.

"Who, James?" she asked. Simon nodded and leaned forward in his chair to talk to her.

"What did you talk to him about?" he asked, "were things," he felt strange asking this, "civil?"

Kim finished zipping up her boot and moved her chair forward to talk to Simon more directly.

"They were civil," she said seriously, "honestly, you have no need to worry."

"But I do, I can't help it," Simon told her, "knowing what Keats did to you..."

"How many times have you told us James isn't Keats?" Kim pointed out. It was true Simon had used those words so many times he'd considered getting them tattooed by this point. "I could see that. Right from the start, I could see it." she shook her head slightly. "If you'd have asked me yesterday whether I would have been able to talk to him and not think about," she found herself flinching. Even though the memories floating around her head were non-specific there were enough of them to haunt her in the vaguest sense, "about the past," she said quietly, "I'd have told you to fuck right off and never look back. But it turned out even I'm wrong sometimes," she saw Simon smile at her comment. "I still get that twinge of," she reached for the right word, "panic," she decided eventually, "when I see him, just for a second. But as soon as I look at his eyes or hear him talk, that disappears. And I know that will happen for everybody else. It will take time but they'll get there."

Simon exhaled and let himself begin to relax slightly. His shoulders ached and his neck felt bent all out of shape. Good god, how much stress had he been under, worrying about James's first day on the job?

"I hope you're right," he told her.

"Trust me on this." 

"I don't know," Simon began, "Even _you_ can be wrong sometimes... _Ow!"_ He cried as a pen struck him right in the nose.

"Oi, less of that!" Kim admonished with a laugh. They both smiled as they looked at one another. It was funny but even with so much water under the bridge and with their lives so different now to the day they first met their friendship was still rock solid. Simon was about to make a comment to the effect of that but the sound of footsteps pulled both their attentions to the doorway and they stared in silence, quite expectantly, until Robin appeared with James a few steps behind. He looked at Kim and the familiarity of her face sent a wave of relief across his expression.

"Hey," he began, "we're done."

Kim and Simon both scrambled tot heir feet as though giving a standing ovation.

"How did it go?" Kim asked, hopping from one foot to the other with nerves. Robin gave her a smile that looked relieved and emotional.

"Fine," he said softly, "It was OK. I think we're," he took a deep breath, "we're OK."

Simon moved past him toward James, placing a hand on Robin's shoulder in a gesture of thanks and praise. He knew that conversation couldn't have been an easy one to have and he wanted Robin to know how proud he was of him.

"Hey," he smiled at James who seemed wrung out emotionally and looked exhausted. Simon hoped the filing hadn't contributed too much to that, "are you doing OK?"

James nodded. OK might have been a bit of a strong word for it but he had survived a conversation he'd not been prepared for and one that was never going to be easy. Maybe OK _was_ the right word after all.

"Just starving," he said, trying to keep the subject away from their conversation. Even though nothing of great importance had come from it, it was still private between them both. He wasn't really ready to delve into his memories yet and he felt as though concentrating any more on his relationship to Robin was going to open a Pandora's box that was never going to close again. "Didn't you mention something about a dangerous canteen woman?"

"Canteen?" Kim's ears perked up at the mention of food and she scrambled up so fast that the chair almost toppled over, "Are you two going to the canteen?" she glanced at Robin, "maybe we could join you?" she silently asked Robin if he was OK with that and he gave a slight nod. He wasn't sure he was altogether happy about spending more time with James, at least not right right away, but it had been hours since his last baked bean break and he was in need of some.

"Sounds good to me," he said, wrapping an arm around Kim's waist just in time to feel her belly give out an enormous groan. "Shit, sounds like we're going to make it just in time," he commented and felt Kim tense up with chronic embarrassment.

"Let's just get going before the colander woman starts mixing sprouts in with your favourite orange food, huh?" she said, her cheeks a bright shade of red.

An unlikely truce led the four of them to lunch together. No one could have expected that by lunchtime James would have found himself at a table of four, and despite knowing he would most probably sit there wordlessly eating his lunch – aside from an occasional ' _Ugh_ ' if the food was up to the standard he'd been hearing about, of course – he also knew this was far more than he could ever have expected from his first day on the job.

~xXx~

Marci bounced along the halls of Fenchurch East with a real spring in her step, the camera still slung around her neck. She felt like a new woman. Her freshly printed ID had her new title displayed for everyone to see and she was so damn proud of it, she couldn't wait to push it under Jake's nose and rub it in that she was now his equal. _That_ was going to drive him _crazy._ She giggled to herself as she reached the doorway of the hi-tech crimes office and peered inside. The office was empty, which seemed strange, Simon should have been there, swearing as he tripped over his files. _That_ was _another_ strange thing: the big piles of paperwork she'd grown accustomed to seeing had shrunk.

" _Sir?"_ she asked experimentally as though Simon was about to pop out from one of the drawers, but no one replied. She had been certain Simon was due back that day.

"Oh well," she gave a shrug and felt her cheeks redden as a naughty thought passed through her head and she quickly closed the door, turned the lock, then pulled the blind over the window to shut out the rest of the world. She realised the little pokey, private office they'd assigned for her public relations duties would probably be a more appropriate place to be doing this, but... well, she wasn't in that office, was she?!

She shimmied off her smart jacket and began unbuttoning her blouse with one hand whilst pulling the camera strap over her head with the other.

If she was going to be in charge of taking publicity shots around the station then she should probably test out the equipment, she decided.

Unfastening the last of her buttons, she shrugged off her crisp, new shirt and reached around to pop open the clasp of her bra. Shaz was going to receive a very spicy lunch invite and a _very_ pleasant surprise.

~X~

"Jake, _Jake,_ I'm _sorry!"_ Marci cried, covering her chest with one hand and holding up the camera in the other, "I truly didn't realise the lock was faulty! I thought I'd locked the door!"

"It's fine! _Fine!_ I saw nothing!" Jake squeaked, rushing out of the office at great speed with a red face and a growing issue in his lower region.

"It's nothing you haven't seen before after clubbing!" Marci tried to make things better but succeeded only in drawing a small crowd who whistled and cheered.

"I _assure_ you, I _haven't!"_ Jake cried behind him as he fled back to his office to bury his head in paperwork and deny all knowledge of what he'd just seen.

" _Grrrr,"_ Marci groaned and turned away from the door, closing it and leaving a large proportion of CID disappointed. She propped a chair against it to stop any further unwanted visitors and shook her head. "I still haven't even finished testing the _equipment!"_ she moaned.

That her colleagues had caught her in a half-naked state didn't phase Marci in the slightest. Marci didn't embarrass easily. The fact that it had been _Jake_ gnawed at her a little although she did her best to ignore it. There had been things on her mind recently; things she'd been doing her best to push to the back of her mind. This wasn't the time to let them come back to the fore.

Jake was her very best friend and that's where their relationship needed to stay, _end of._

~xXx~

"She's your best _friend_ , you _twat,"_ Jake groaned, sinking into his chair and pulling it as far under the desk as he could to hide his burgeoning erection. His head dropped to the desk with a thud and he groaned again. "Go _away,"_ he told his loins, "she's off limits. You've never had any interest in her before! Why _now?"_ he mumbled into the shiny surface, "why did she have to be half _naked?"_

"This sounds like a conversation I'd like to hear more about," Gene's voice interrupted Jake's sulk but thankfully Alex grasped his arm and pulled him away before he could prise any of the juicy details from him.

" _Lunch,_ Gene," she said sternly.

"Spoilsport," Gene huffed.

"And then afterwards _I_ can be the half naked one," Alex promised him which seemed to do the trick. He looked back at Jake whose face was still buried in the table.

"Yer of the hook," he told him and led Alex off to lunch in rather a hurry.

" _Ugh,"_ Jake bemoaned his situation to the desk in front of him. He started to scratch a shape into the varnish with his thumb nail which slowly took on the appearance of a heart. Crossly he scrubbed it back out, furious with himself for letting a few errant feelings get so far.

He and Marci were best friends. That was all.

Then why were neither his heard, nor his heart – nor his loins for that matter – listening to him?


	13. Chapter 12: Serving the Sprouts

**Chapter 12**

"I don't remember putting these cookies on my tray," Alex commented as she reached the till. She picked them up and waved them under Gene's nose. "Any idea how they got there?"

Gene shrugged and thrust his hands in his pockets.

"Immigration?" he suggested as a colander clonked them both on the head, "Jesus Christ, it comes to something when getting some grub is more dangerous than scooping up the scum off the street!"

 _"Oi,"_ A very angry voice caught their attention, "Are you paying for those or what?!"

"Now I remember why we started waving goodbye to yer five-star service and getting our sugar fix at Latte Land," Gene's face reddened the more pissed off he became.

" _One_ of us is paying," Alex said, tossing the cookies onto Gene's tray," And it isn't me."

She handed over the money for the rest of her lunch, refused a complimentary sprout and waited for Gene to grudgingly pay for the cookies on top of the rest of his lunch.

"Now I remember why we stopped coming here and started buying up the snack counter at Latte Land instead," he reiterated in a mumble.

"I thought we stopped coming here because you got a three-week ban for telling the colander woman to shove sprouts in a variety of unpleasant places," Alex reminded him and Gene gave an annoyed grunt.

"Not like we're missing out on much," he said as they chose a table and sat down, "The cuisine has gotten greener and the cook has gotten meaner."

Alex smiled and started to open up her sandwich whilst Gene broke pieces off his cookie and started tossing them in the air, catching each one in his mouth quite expertly. Alex noted with amusement that she'd watched him hone that skill over the seventeen years or so that she'd been in Gene's world and it had taken him almost that entire time to master the art without sending people to hospital with eye injuries, left, right and centre.

"It's nice to know some things never change," she said, and not for the first time that day.

Gene grasped a pasty and took an abnormally large bite.

"Oh yeah?" he managed to mumble whilst chewing, "what about the things that _have_ changed?"

He not-so-subtly nodded toward a table across the room where what would normally have been a group of three had picked up an extra member. Alex felt her stomach turn for a moment and she almost put down her sandwich but she told herself sternly to stick by her earlier decision. She needed to accept James as a person in his own right. Jim Keats had caused her immeasurable pain but the man sitting awkwardly amongst friends had no malice nor evil in his eyes. He looked lost and uncomfortable whilst Simon, Kim and Robin talked and chattered amongst themselves. Every so often one of them – usually Simon - would turn to him to include him in the conversation but he would mumble something quickly and then become very interested in the straw sticking out of the Capri Sun that he'd been making last for twenty minutes.

"I trust your world, Gene," she said quietly, "it wouldn't have given him that job if he was going to burn down our walls."

"He's _literally_ done that, Bols," Gene reminded her, _"twice."_

Alex stared at her sandwich as she thought about Gene's words. She hadn't even taken a bite yet, despite Gene having wolfed down most of his pasty already. The day's strange events had killed her appetite. She picked at the bread as she configured her response.

"I trust your world," she said again, "it knows what it's doing. Look at the choices it's made. A whole suite appeared for Kim. Offices changed size and shape to accommodate new staff. A whole new _department_ appeared for _Robin."_

"You're using Batman and Metal Mickey as poster boys for the choices me world's stuck to us," Gene spluttered. It was as close as Gene Hunt ever got to a genuine laugh. Well, aside form any time Simon fell over or got a water balloon in the face. "Blimey, Bolly, you're scraping the bottom of the barrel with that one."

"Jealousy doesn't become you, Gene," Alex commented cheekily. She finally took a bite of her sandwich and smiled as Gene scowled.

"The only time I'm jealous of Batman is when he's got one of those big-arsed cakes," he snorted.

"Young blood," Alex commented, "thriving; bringing in a new era," She reached across to rub the wedding ring on Gene's finger, "doesn't equate to you and I being resigned to the scrap heap _just_ yet, you know. You can admit they're doing well without heading off for last orders at Nelson's."

"What about Shoe-Shop Boy?" Gene grunted, "me world was having a bad day when it planted that one in his own office,"

"Simon's not doing so badly himself," Alex smiled, picking again at her food, "it took him a while to settle down -"

"Define a while?" Gene asked, "how many _End of the Year_ shows does that cover?"

"I seem to remember it took someone not so far away from you a good while to sort herself out, too," Alex raised her eyebrow with a slightly embarrassed smile, "I don't think you can blame Simon for that. Besides," she looked over at him and observed the changes he'd undergone in the last few months; an increased confidence in his work, making a real effort with his appearance... the sculpted hair that replaced the overgrown waves he'd never bothered to style before, stylish shirts, a pierced ear she felt pretty sure had been a Kim freebie... wait, were those _highlights_ in his hair as well? But more than that there was a smile on his face. Alex had never truly seen a happy Simon before. She couldn't deny it was good to see, after all that time. "B _esides_ ," she continued, "I think he's made his mark by now."

"Yeah, all over the toilet walls," scoffed Gene.

"Not the graffiti," Alex rolled her eyes but she was smiling. She ate silently for a while considering the events of the day. She could tell from Gene's stance and the way he glared at James every now and then that it was going to take some time for him to accept someone into his world who wore the face of their number one enemy, and she herself was going to take a good long while to get used to fighting her natural response every time she saw him. However, she knew enough to trust the world that had been her home for so many happy years. James had come to the world a long time ago for a second chance and the darkness had prevented him from getting the life he deserved. Now he was lucky enough to have a _third_ chance and he had Simon to help him through it.

They had each other and Alex knew for a fact that facing the world with someone who's got your back and gives you warmth and comfort makes everything easier by a long way.

" _Yeah, they'll be just fine,_ " she sad so quietly that Gene couldn't hear over the slurping of his latte. Alex couldn't resist smiling. Deeply buried memories threatening to come out of hiding but she wasn't going to let them taint her field of vision. James was still on trial but he deserved a fair chance. That was the basis of their world, after all. And it was a world she trusted with her life.

~xXx~

James smiled politely as Kim and Robin recounted some story that was probably hilarious to simon or to anyone else who knew them. It involved baked beans, some bathroom scales and a blindfold, but beyond that James wasn't sure. He'd zoned out repeatedly, feeling out of the loop and awkward from the moment he'd taken his seat in the canteen. It was clear that Kim and Robin had forgotten his presence for the most part and even Simon spent more time with his face turned away from James, talking to his friends than he did engaging in conversation with him.

There was an element of jealousy but mostly he simply felt lost and neglected. It was natural, and he knew that – Simon hadn't seen his friends for the last few weeks and they had much to catch up on, plus the three of them had been through so much together that any outsider would find it hard to penetrate that circle of friendship. But since the day Simon took him home they'd been alone together almost constantly. He didn't know how to survive without Simon. He was out of practice when it came to existing for a start. He'd only had a month of life experience after what added up to a good couple of decades surrounded in dark energy. He knew he needed to toughen up and start living for himself if he was going to survive out in the real world now that the safe little bubble he'd spent the past few weeks in had been burst.

"Hey," Simon's voice pulled James out of his thoughts, "You OK? You've been very quiet."

 _Didn't know what to say,_ James thought silently but with a slightly wobbly smile he said,

"Just tired. Not been used to doing a day's work." He wasn't exactly lying. Simon's paperwork was probably going to be the death of him. He scratched his head and pushed back his dark waves. "Listen, I'm fine, honestly, Si, you don't need to worry about me. But I feel a bit..." He trailed off and glanced at Kim and Robin who were very deeply into a conversation and Simon knew exactly what he meant.

"I'm so sorry," he said quietly, "I should have done a better job at including you. I feel like an arsehole."

"No, no," James laughed softly, "that's the last thing I meant. Honestly, I'm OK, I need time to," he shrugged, "come out my shell," he felt a bit stupid saying that but it was what it boiled down to, "listen, I'm off to the bathroom. Go to the lav and wash the sprout juice off me too." He blanched at the thought and Simon nodded.

"I get you. Don't worry about it, I understand." he watched James get to his feet and reached out to touch his hand. "Listen, I'm just going to finish this and then I'll meet you in the office, yeah?"

"See you," James smiled. He thought about leaning forward to kiss Simon but he felt an unexpected wave of self-consciousness and stopped himself. He glanced around, suddenly aware of how many people there were in the room. That was only a small sample of how many people there were in the station, and then in the city, and the country, and the world. For the first time he felt awkward about his relationship status. At first he'd felt so overwhelmed by the magnitude of beating the dark energy that the last thing he'd worried about was his sexuality. Now he realised they would be under a microscope. He hadn't even thought about his sexuality besides how he felt about Simon. He didn't even know what his sexuality _was_. Right there and then, his sexuality was Simon.

"See you later," Simon's voice pulled James out of his thoughts and with a slightly nervous smile he said goodbye to Simon for now and set off to wash the scent of sprouts from his hands. As far as first days on the job were concerned, this was going to take some beating.

X

"Is he OK?"

"Hmm?" Simon seemed just as distracted as he turned back to the table and found Kim looking a little concerned.

"James," she said, "Is he OK?"

Simon sighed softly.

"Feeling a little out of place," he told her, "sorry."

Kim and Robin exchanged a glance.

"Sorry, were we being too exclusive?" Robin asked, feeling guilty, if only a little.

Simon smiled distantly but he felt guilty too.

"It's my fault," he said, "I should have made sure he could join in. I remember being the new boy here."

"Yeah, I heard you introduced yourself by breaking three toes," Kim smiled and Simon pulled a face.

"That's three more than _you_ ," he began as though that was something to brag about before realising how stupid he sounded and turned rather red in the face. "Bollocks."

Robin smiled and dug into his plate of beans.

"I think I passed out in the car park and then almost got thrown in the cells for rowdy behaviour on mine," he said and this time Simon laughed.

"I think it was 'drunk and disorderly'," he commented.

"I wouldn't mind but I hadn't even had anything to drink!" Robin protested.

"That soon changed," Simon commented cheekily and the two exchanged a smile.

"Whoever would have thought we were a pair of teetotallers back in the day?" Robin said wistfully.

Simon smiled then glanced at Kim as she supped from a can of coke.

"And some of us got their drinking out the way years ago," he commented with a raised eyebrow.

Kim smiled back, returning her can to the table.

"My wild days are done," she commented, trying to muffle a burp.

"Unless it's truth or dare," Simon commented, his eyebrow rising so high it looked like it was about to take off.

Kim felt slightly unnerved by his rogue eyebrow.

"I think truth or dare should be left firmly back in the past," she said and Simon gave a grin.

"Which is exactly where we all are," he said, tipping the last of his crisps into his mouth, "so truth or dare is a thing that is destined to stay."

Kim folded her arms and stuck out her bottom lip.

"Bollocks," she said.

~xXx~

"He just came bursting right in, Shaz, he saw _everything!"_

Shaz shrieked delightedly and clapped her hands, as amused by the glow in Marci's cheeks as she was by the whole story.

"No wonder he wouldn't sit with us for lunch," she giggled, "he's probably scared he'll say something stupid like..." she thought for a moment before staring at the remains of Marci's sandwich and grinning wickedly, "like asking you how your baps are!"

" _Shaz!"_ cried Marci, but she was laughing. She pushed her hair away from her face and popped a grape in her mouth. Shaz had been somewhat delighted by the 'test shots' she'd received but the story of Jake's surprise had taken prescient over their conversation.

"I'm sorry," Shaz smiled, "I can just imagine him spending the next three years trying not to bring it up but somehow mentioning it in ever single conversation."

Marci had to giggle.

"Yeah, you and me both. Christ, Shaz, I'll never live it down!"

"Well that's what you get for testing out your new equipment in your office," she said cheekily.

"I didn't hear you complaining when you got the email," Marci pointed out.

"Well I wouldn't be, would I? I got to see _your_ equipment," Shaz teased and Marci screeched.

They giggled like naughty school children as they finished up their lunches and Marci chased the last grape around her tray with a finger. She had fallen into a thoughtful silence for a few moments which was in contrast to the rowdy conversation they'd been having throughout their break. Eventually Shaz realised that Marci had zoned out and started to wave a hand gently in front of her face.

"Hello? Anyone in?" she asked as Marci shook herself out of her daze.

"What? Sorry," she smiled awkwardly, "I started daydreaming."

"Oh yeah, about what?" Shaz asked cheekily, "cameras?"

"Kind of," Marci straightened up in her chair, " _Jake._ "

" _Ahh."_

"Why do you think he ran away like that?" Marci asked with a frown.

"Uh, he just found his best friend with nothing on above the waist," Shaz laughed, "with a camera pointing at her chest! I think it would send _me_ running and screaming too!"

"But we're not _like_ that," Marci told her, "we've been best friends as far back as I can remember. I've painted his bum green for an experiment before now."

Shaz herself seemed to turn green at the thought of it.

"W-why?" she asked warily.

"It was a long time ago," Marci waved her hand dismissively, "something to do with owls and Doctor Who, I think."

Shaz didn't dare ask any more about it.

"Still, there's a difference between something stupid you did when you were young and walking in on someone you probably forgot had all the same equipment that he gawps at on that poster of Ginger Spice he keeps in his locker."

Marci smiled awkwardly and nodded a vague agreement. There was a strange sense of jealousy hanging over her. The comparisons between her and Scary Spice had plagued her for two years and she'd never really minded. But now imagining the poster in Jake's locker she felt herself thinking something that she couldn't explain.

" _He likes the wrong Spice Girl,"_ she mumbled to herself. She realised she was zoning out again and shook herself out of her thoughts as Shaz started to get to her feet. "Are you off, babe?"

"Yeah, I want to make sure I get all my papers finished before five so I can get home on time," Shaz told her, "to get ready to go out later." She grabbed the apple from her tray and tossed it in the air, caching it swiftly, "got a hot date tonight."

Marci's lips twitched into a smile.

"Oh yeah?" she said feeling a little coy.

"Hot date with a hot babe," Shaz said teasingly, "I've had the free sample." She leaned closer to Marci, so close that Marci could feel Shaz's warm breath against her face, "now I'm looking forward to checking out the goods."

Marci gave a slightly embarrassed laugh and felt her cheeks flushing.

"You're so bloody cheesy," she admonished, aware that she felt very tingly inside at the thought of her night ahead with Shaz who was laughing at her reaction.

"I'll see you tonight," she grinned. She blew Marci a kiss and moved away from the table with a wiggle in her walk, knowing full well that Marci's eyes were on her backside.

Marci leaned back and popped her final grape into her mouth as she watched Shaz's butt disappear from the canteen. She decided it was time to put thoughts of Jake's unexpected interruption and unobtainable crushes out of her mind. _Woah,_ where did _that_ thought come from? She shook her head and tutted to herself. She'd known Jake for more years than she'd known how to tie a shoelace. There had been plenty of time to develop a crush but never had. He was her very best friend. _This wasn't happening._

" _Forget about it,"_ Marci mumbled to herself. Jake was off limits. What was very much _on_ was her night out with Shaz. It felt as though they were truly back on track, sealed with some surprise photos and a naughty night on the town. In fact, _life_ felt back on track.

Marci closed her eyes for a moment and smiled contentedly. Life was going in the girth direction and that felt fucking awesome.

~xXx~

"Ugh, time's up," Robin looked at his watch, "time to get back to work."

"Bullshit, I'm the only one with a watch that works," Kim nudged him.

"I know when lunch is over when you stop burping," Robin told her, watching her face instantly rotate through several different expressions and colours before deciding upon fluorescent pink with a touch of mortification, "I just looked at my watch to save you the embarrassment of knowing how I tell the time."

" _Thanks so much for that,"_ Kim mumbled through gritted teeth, "your plan clearly worked _so_ well."

Robin felt a little guilty, but only a little. Kim was so easy to embarrass and he loved watching her cheeks turn pink. It made her look cute; almost adorable. If he ever told her that, she'd have pierced every inch of his arse as revenge though so it remained his little secret within himself every time he taunted her.

"I _do_ need to get back to work though," he said skimming his finger around his plate to finish the last of the bean juice which he licked from his fingertip. He got to his feet and Kim followed.

"I'll walk you back to your office before I go back to work," she offered, looping her arm through his. She glanced at Simon. "Coming?"

Simon leaned back, put his hands around the back of his head and yawned.

"Nah," he sighed, "I'm just going to get another coffee before I go back to work. I'll catch you later."

"Alright," Kim shrugged, "see you later."

"Bye, Simon," Robin waved before turning with Kim and walking towards the way out, both leaning inward to rest their bodies against one another as they did so.

Simon smiled to himself as he watched them walk away. Even though he had put his jealousy about their relationship behind him a long time ago, when it came to Kim and Robin he'd still been envious of what they _had_. Every time he'd seen the way they were with one another he wished that _he_ had someone to tease and hold and laugh with and talk to. Someone to share worries and secrets and gossip and jokes. Someone to make him feel warm and loved and wanted and needed. For the first time he no longer felt that envy. He had James.

Speaking of which -

"Shit, better get back to the office," he mumbled as he sat up right and hauled his lazy self out of the chair. He didn't want to abandon James with his filing for _too_ long. Just the thought of being with him again brought a skip to Simon's step as he hurried across to the canteen counter and joined the queue to pick up a couple of coffees. He tapped his foot and sighed as the uniformed body ahead of him seemed to take forever to pick between three different bananas. He checked his watch pointlessly and cleared his throat.

"Any chance I can skip ahead if you're going to be much longer?" Simon asked a second before he felt his heart being slowly strangled as the uniformed officer before him turned around. _"Oh shit."_

Michael simply smiled at him. The rest of his face looked twisted and pained.

"Skip ahead?" he asked. He stepped back and gestured to wave Simon through. "You skipped out on our _date_ , so..."

"Michael," Simon's voice wavered as he tried not to choke, "Hi."

Michael gestured to him again.

"Go on, _sir,_ " he said with a smile that couldn't quite contain his spite, "the last thing I want to do is hold you up."

"Michael, oh god, I'm _so sorry,"_ Simon took a deep breath, " I meant to call you, it's just -"

"It's OK," Michael said tightly, _"I heard."_

Simon felt very much as though his legs were going to drop from underneath him and he was going to end up in a heap on the floor. He felt very much like a naughty school boy who'd been caught out cheating in a test. Or, in this case, cheating on his boyfriend.

"I-I never meant for things to go as far as they did," he said, unable to stop his voice from breaking.

"No, it's Ok," Michael said sharply, "you go ahead whilst I stand here and stare at these bananas for another few minutes." he paused, "Just like I was staring at your car as you drove away with some other guy when you were supposed to be meeting me for a night out."

Simon stared at Michael. He felt a deep, dark sense of guilt that sat in his chest, choking him. He was full of regret, not so much for standing Michael up or cheating on him with James, or for not being strong enough to own up to his decisions and end things with him instead of forgetting all about him. Instead he was full of regret for letting the relationship start in the first place. Everyone was so happy for Simon. Everyone else loved Michael. The problem was that Simon _didn't._

"I'm sorry," he said quietly as two disgruntled WPCs barged past them.

" _Takes so long to choose a ruddy banana they'll go bad before they even get to peel one,"_ one of them muttered to vague apologies from Simon and Michael. The two men moved out of their way and stepped back from the food counter for a moment. Simon didn't know what to do or say, he had never felt so awkward. He felt guilty, embarrassed and ashamed but somehow he couldn't form a proper apology.

"Michael," He closed his eyes. Nothing he could tell Michael was going to make up for what he'd done. There was nothing he could say to excuse his behaviour. He didn't have any excuses. There was a time that Simon would have tried to make all the excuses under the sun to weasel his way out of the situation. Maybe James had helped him grow up a bit. He opened his eyes and looked at him sincerely. "I'm sorry. I am really, truly sorry. I was an arsehole."

"Yeah you were," Michael began but somehow the fact that Simon already knew it took the fun out of insulting him. He folded his arms as though sulking a little and slouched on the spot. This body language betrayed the deeper hurt that he was determined not to let Simon see. He'd always been about fun, never wanted anything serious. That was practically the first thing he'd told simon. He supposed they'd met at a slightly strange time, perhaps for both of them. He knew full well that Simon was suffering from a broken heart the night they'd met. He even knew he was most likely a rebound thing and that hadn't bothered him at first. But he was moving from a happy-go-lucky time into one of stability and certainty; setting down roots for the first time in his life. He'd had many flings but never had a steady boyfriend or girlfriend. With Simon, it had felt like maybe he was ready for that.

"I should never have been with you." Simon's words hurt. Michael hadn't been surprised by them but he still wished they'd been different. "I was hung up on someone else and I thought... that night," Simon hung his head, feeling ashamed at his flippancy, "I thought I was never going to see you again so a one night thing... I didn't see how I could end up hurting you for that. I didn't know I was going to see you again."

"You only had to tell me you didn't want to see me again when I asked you out," Michael said crossly and Simon couldn't disagree.

"Yeah," he sighed, "I know. I know. I should have told you that. I have a problem saying no. I don't mean," Simon flushed, "I don't mean... _dating-wise._.." he felt his cheeks burning up, "good god, I'm not a harlot..." He noticed to his annoyance several people had gathered to watch the spectacle and five of them were giggling. He growled crossly and grasped Michael by the arm, pulling him away from the crowd but Michael shoved him away.

"Don't touch me," he snapped and Simon hung his head.

"Do you want to go somewhere more private?" he asked hopefully.

"No."

Simon scowled.

"Thought not," he mumbled. He sighed and tried to shuffle between Michael and the crowd to block their view, "Look... I got carried away," he confessed, "my friends were so happy for me. They _loved_ you. _Everyone_ loved you."

Michael stared at Simon sadly.

"Except you," he said, "right?"

Simon looked down at his feet.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

Michael nodded slowly. It wasn't news to him. He already knew that Simon had never felt the same way about him. He'd hoped that would change with time and even felt quite confident that he could change Simon's mind. But he wasn't an idiot.

"I could tell you weren't really into me," he said, "for the most part." They'd had a couple of moments. Michael couldn't forget those. "But what I _can't_ forgive you for is not just ending it with me, at _least_ as soon as you shacked up with your new boyfriend."

Simon hung his head as low as it would go and felt his face burning right up to his hairline. For the self-proclaimed head of the infidelity police he couldn't quite forgive _himself_ for that one, either. The simple truth was that he had more or less forgotten about Michael as soon as James had become the most important part of his life.

"I'm an arsehole," Simon confessed again as a sudden swipe through the air left Michael's palm flat against his cheek. " _Ow!"_ He jumped back and stared at Michael, aghast, "You _slapped_ me!" he cried.

"Yeah, I slapped you," Michael growled, "I'd have made it a punch but you look like you've received a few of those today already."

Simon flinched.

"Don't remind me," he mumbled.

Michael felt his heart rate starting to slow and his breath returned to normal. There was nothing to be gained from insulting Simon, nor hitting him, The sad fact of the matter was that nothing was actually going to make him feel better. _Just_ , he supposed, _time_. Damnit.

"Look," he said, shuffling a little with sudden embarrassment, "I wasn't expecting the world. But I liked you. And I had some good times with you, even though it was only for a while.

Simon studied Michael's expression. His anger seemed to have subsided. Now he just looked incredibly sad, which somehow made Simon feel worse.

"I'm so sorry," he said honestly, "for what it's worth, I do mean that. And I never meant to hurt you."

Michael wasn't sure what to say any more. Even an apology didn't make him feel better.

"I'll see you around, OK?" he said quietly, "and," he looked at Simon seriously, "I hope he's worth it."

Simon wasn't sure whether Michael's words were meant with malice or good will, but either way the answer was the same.

"He is," he felt bad as soon as he blurted his response, "I'm sorry."

Michael was out of words. There was nothing else left to say anyway. His shoulders drooped as he left the canteen in a hurry, completely forgetting about his banana dilemma. The sooner he left Simon's presence, the better.

Simon, for his part, almost lost track of his own coffee-buying mission. He'd walked halfway to the door before rolling his eyes and moaning to himself about his own stupidity, then hurrying back into the queue to buy a couple of coffees.

There was a part of him that still felt bad and probably always would, but he meant what he'd said. James _was_ worth it. His own _happiness_ was worth it One thing he'd learned the hard way was that there was no happiness to be had from sitting and waiting for other people to bring it to you. You had to go out and find it, and to want it. _Really_ want it. And Simon _did_ want it.

James had fought the darkest for forces to break free and spend his life with Simon. Now, Simon had faced the wrath of his friends to help James's transition into a new life become that little bit easier.

It was going to take time to adjust, for _everybody_ , but in the end they would come through the other side all the stronger for it.

The future was bright. And the day had been more than just _OK_.

 **The End**

 **Epilogue Up Tomorrow!**


	14. Epilogue: Stepping into Starlight

**Epilogue**

Gene turned around at the sound of his door swinging open and a smiling Alex sailed through his office with a latte held aloft.

"You forgot something," she said in a sing-song voice.

"So I did," Gene smiled smugly.

Alex thumped the cup down on his desk and folded her arms.

"Forgot to pay and left me holding your drink and sixteen assorted chocolate bars," she said before holding out a hand, "cough up."

"Give me my chocolate first and I'll pay up n full," Gene told her.

"What, like last week?" Alex raised her eyebrow, "when I bought you lunch and you handed me a Gene Sex Voucher when I asked for repayment?"

"I paid me debt off, didn't I?" Gene asked.

"That's not my quibble," Alex mumbled, reddening.

"In fact you owe me some change," Gene commented and Alex tried hard not to smirk.

"Money or nothing," she said.

"Oh really?" Gene asked, "then you won't get to see me novelty kecks tonight."

"Payment or you won't get to see my _lack_ of kecks," Alex commented, clearing her throat as Gene spluttered.

"I'll get me wallet," he mumbled, thrusting his hands into his pockets just as a hammering knock sounded, "Bollocks to everything," he groaned as Jake flung the door open.

"Guv," he began, "sorry to interrupt..."

"Not sorry enough, Dawson," Gene growled, "this had better be good."

"It might be," Jake said, "I've got an informant who's got inside info on the forgery ring I've been tracking since January."

"Must be one hell of a ring if it's taken this long to forge," Gene said sarcastically, "Dawson you don't need me holding yer hand on this one."

"Just thought you might want to sit in on my meeting," Jake said, feeing a little confused.

"Just cos Nicey-Spice is off playing space invaders with Simon doesn't mean you need _me_ following you around," Gene huffed. He was still somewhat pissed off that one of his best detectives had been pilfered from his team, "take Terry or Bammo."

"I want information, not to _soak_ him," Jake frowned, "last time I took Bammo with me he drowned two suspects with water balloons." He shuddered, "The Super's still investigating the complaints from that one."

"Right," Gene thumped a hand on his desk and dropped heavily onto his chair, "then I'll get onto recruitment and find you a new partner who can go with you and hold yer ruddy hand."

Jake looked crestfallen as he stood in the doorway.

"I don't need a new partner," he moped.

"I'm sorry to be the one to have to say this," Alex began tactfully, "but Marci's moved on, Jake. She's got a new job now."

Jake's expression darkened with denial.

"She might come back," he moped.

"She's got a new title, an office near the canteen and Fletcher's raided the photography counter in Dixon's for her," Gene told him bluntly, "she's not coming back for the likes of you and yer Ronan Keating haircut, Dawson."

" _Gene,"_ Alex interrupted, _"that's enough."_

Gene looked somewhat aghast.

"What the bloody hell did I say _now_ , missus woman?!" he cried, his arms flailing over his head.

Alex ignored him and turned back to Jake.

"Jake," she began softly, "You and Marci always made a great team but she's received a promotion."

"I know that," Jake scowled.

"And she's got her own work to concentrate on."

"I _know_ that," Jake protested. He felt himself feeling flustered and his cheeks started to burn as Alex's knowing stare made him feel uncomfortable, "what? I _do_ know that!"

"Then find someone else and go and forge yerself a ruddy personality, gawd love us," Gene scowled, his glare chasing Jake from the room.

"Fine!" he cried, "I'm going! I'm going!"

He shut the door a little too hard, making picture frames rattle and Gene's head jar.

"Jesus, Dawson, you're enough to give a man a migraine!" he declared which raised a laugh from Alex.

"Does that mean you've got a headache?" she asked.

Gene raised an eyebrow.

"Not enough of one to invalidate me sex tokens," he said.

Alex smiled. The day had been a strange and trying one but with Gene by her side she could survive anything.

"Good," she said.

~xXx~

Jake closed his eyes as he heard Gene continuing to insult him from the other side of the door.

"You won't be laughing tomorrow when I only get you six sugars for your coffee," he mumbled. He wished he hadn't bothered even _telling_ Gene. He could handle his snout by himself. That wasn't a problem. He couldn't deny missing Marci though. They'd always been joined at the hip. He couldn'timagine going about his day without seeing her as much as he'd been accustomed to.

He heard something soft and wet plop onto the ground beside him and he opened his eyes to see a half-deflated water balloon on the floor.

"No, Bammo, you're not coming," he cried, crossing his arms. He reached into his pocket for his car keys and strode through the office to set off and meet his informant. Bammo was the kind of help he really didn't need.

Something bright caught the corner of his eye and he stumbled a little, confused and surprised. He looked around him but couldn't see anything out of place. Someone must have turned a light on or a wing mirror must have reflected a rogue bean of sunlight through a window. That was all.

He trudged on. Neither water balloons nor rogue blasts of starlight were going to stop him doing his job.

And neither was a crush he had to forget.

~xXx~

"Hey! I was wondering where you were!"

Simon was so happy to see a friendly face that he almost hugged Marci.

"Hello stranger," he smiled, "I just came back this morning."

"I know, I came looking for you," Marci told him, which was half-true. She'd hoped to catch up with Simon when she'd returned to the station from the press conference. When she'd seen no sign of him she had taken advantage of the opportunity to experiment with her new equipment and forgotten all about him, "where have you been?" She was surprised to find that Simon gave into his urge and hugged her, "I heard you took some overdue holiday."

"Yeah," Simon felt a little embarrassed about the hasty way he'd arranged his leave.

"It was all a bit weird," she said, "I got brought in to keep things ticking over -"

"And you did a great job," Simon told her, "I knew you would."

"And then I was getting ready to go back to CID," Marci continued, "when Fletcher asked to speak to me. I've been promoted. Detective Sergeant!"

"I know!" Simon smiled, truly happy for her, "you deserved it."

"I'm working with you part time, but I'm not sure how my hours are supposed to be split."

"We'll work that out," Simon assured her, "I'm just very glad to have some help at last," he gave a sharp intake of breath and his eyes lit up, "which reminds me, you have to meet my new DI."

"DI?" Marci asked, "I thought I was the only one joining your department?"

"It was a last minute decision," Simon said a little awkwardly, recalling how shocked they'd both been to receive the job offer the week before.

"Who's your DI?" Marci asked, "is it another internal promotion? Do I know him?"

Simon felt his cheeks flush as he said,

"I talked to you about him a while ago, actually."

Marci frowned.

"Oh?"

Simon's eyes sparkled as he looked at her excitedly.

"Something else happened to me, Marci. It's the reason I took leave."

"You're pregnant?" Marci asked, her eyebrows rising.

"No," Simon rolled his eyes, "I-I'm with someone. I mean..." 

"Michael?" Marci asked.

"No," Simon ran a hand through his hair, "someone else."

Marci's eyes were glowing, excited for any gossip. She would deny it left and right but she was a sucker for romance and wanted to know all the details, "who is he?"

"I told you about him once," Simon said shyly, "about _the man no one gave a chance to,_ except me? And that we could never be together because no one would give him a chance?"

Marci's eyebrow rose.

"Really?" she asked, "and... and everything is going well?" Simon nodded, "and you're happy?"

"Happier than I've ever been," Simon beamed and Marci gave a little leap of excitement.

"I'm so happy, Sir! So happy for you!"

Simon's heart started to thump as he thought about James waiting for him back in the office.

"Listen, are you coming to the office right now?" he asked, "because he's already waiting for me. You can meet him."

" _Great,"_ Marci jumped a little, "let's go!" Let me meet this mystery man!" she started to trot into the corridor with Simon following on behind, "how does he take his tea?"

Simon smiled and held up his two coffees.

"He doesn't," he said with a laugh.

"Sorry," Marci looked a little embarrassed.

"I'll be sure to fill you in on how he takes his coffee though," Simon told her.

~xXx~

Jake threw his jacket on the back seat and slipped into his car, closing the door behind him. He yanked the seatbelt across his lap, clicked it into place and jabbed at the radio which allowed Cher to warble into the car at top volume. He pushed the key into the ignition and started the engine which hummed happily whilst Jake checked his mirrors and began to pull out of his packing space.

" _No, I don't."_ Jake told Cher crossly as she asked him whether or not he believed in life after love. He hated that song and had no qualms in telling her so. He hated the _song_ and he hated _love_ and he hated the fact that thinking about Marci sent him -

" _Marci!"_

In one shocking instant, Jake heard his own voice screaming her name. He couldn't work out whether it was _coming_ from him or not, though. It seemed to come from nowhere and rang in his ears as darkness descended. What the _fuck_ was _happening_ to him? One minute it had been broad daylight, the next the black sky was dotted with stars and he couldn't see where he was driving. That wasn't a _major_ problem though, compared to the fact that the steering wheel was no longer there.

He grasped at thin air, screaming Marci's name for reasons he wasn't even privy to, before he realised he wasn't even in the driver's seat. He was in the front passenger seat; so who was _driving?_

" _Marci!"_

" _Oi!"_

An angry voice and a pair of honking horns cut through Jake's panic. He found himself clutching the steering wheel so tightly that his fingers almost jammed into position and his knuckles turned white. His lungs and throat stung from screaming the name of his closest friend, who wasn't even there.

 _But I saw her... I saw her, if only for a moment -_

" _Oi!"_ an officer hammered on the door, "can you move? You're blocking the exit with your car!"

Jake sat back, panting in a panic. He stared ahead of him, out of the windscreen, where the daylight had returned and the stars had vanished. His car had moved no more than a few yards out of his parking space and towards the exit and he'd never left the driver's seat, no matter how vivid his daydream. He was trembling and he couldn't catch his breath as he slowly felt every hair stand up on end across the back of his neck and his heartbeat became so loud that he could actually hear it.

"What the fuck?" he mumbled, hearing another round of beeping.

"You need to get out of the way!" the officer beside him demanded, knocking on his door again.

Jake tried to start the car again but he was shaking so badly that it took three attempts and he moved at a snail's pace to avoid crashing.

" _Crashing,"_ he whispered to himself. There was something just out of reach in his memory, something he couldn't quite access, and he wasn't sure what it was. Just moments earlier he had felt one hundred percent certain his car was about to crash, but he had no idea into what or whom, and he thought – he could have _sworn_ , in fact – that Marci was there beside him.

Eventually he forced himself to drive slowly out of the car park and pull up to one side of the road whilst he waited for his thumping heart to slow down and for his hands to stop trembling. He peered out of the window at the bright sky where the autumn sunshine dodged between clouds. He fumbled his mobile phone from his pocket and jabbed in a few numbers. He felt a sensation of relief as the phone rang, but less when an answer phone message played.

"Marci. It's me," he said, " _Jake,"_ he knew she didn't need that extra detail but it made him feel better to say it, "can you give me a call? Please? I'm..." he looked out of the window again. The world was carrying on as normal around him. And why _shouldn't_ it? Everything was normal. He felt stupid now, _really_ fucking stupid. Closing his eyes, he tried to smile in case she could hear it through his words, "sorry... I'm sorry, everything fine. I'm meeting my informant. I guess I was just..." he closed his eyes and swallowed, "I miss you, Marci." He hesitated, smiling to himself as he pictured Marci sitting in the seat beside him. They'd be catching up on gossip or talking about what happened the previous night at the club or something if she'd really been there. "I guess I'm just missing you." He sighed softly and pushed his fingers back through his blonde hair. "Listen, give me a call later. Maybe we can go out. To the club, I mean," he sighed again. Marci was going to think he'd lost his marbles when she got his message. "See you later." he paused. "Bye, Marci."

As he hung up and slipped the phone back into his pocket he placed his hands on the steering wheel and grasped it. What the hell was going _on_ with him? He couldn't even get his own head together, that was for certain. He leaned back and closed his eyes, wishing he could go home, crawl into bed and start the day over.

Something felt very wrong with the very fabric of the sky.

~xXx~

James finished filing the biggest batch of papers and grinned as he studied the clear space under Simon's desk.

 _"Now you can actually put your feet under it instead of your folders,"_ he commented, laughing to himself as he wiped his dusty hands against his trousers. He could hear laughing voices outside, coming closer to the doorway and hoped one of them was Simon. He glanced around as he waited for them to come closer. There were some papers on Simon's desk that he knew needed filing so he turned around and started gathering them up just as the voices reached the doorway and James's heart jumped in his chest. He would know Simon's voice anywhere.

X

"Hey, maybe we can have a departmental meal," Simon bragged, "never been able to do that before. Never had enough of a _department._ Well... not one that wasn't hiding in the toilets full time."

Marci giggled, a spring in her step.

"DI Vickery? I've heard about him but I never met him," she said.

"Well you wouldn't have done, he was in the men's bogs the entire time," Simon pointed out. His heart started to race the moment he caught sight of the back of James and a smile spread across his face, "speaking of DIs, here's my new one," he beamed, "Marci, This is my new DI, and a lot more," he smiled smugly as James sun around, "James Keats."

" _Keats -"_

Marci felt her brain shut down. Someone had pressed the slow-mo button on the world as life slowed down around her. She was certain of that. James seemed to blur in her field of vision as he turned around with a smile and held his hand toward her.

"Hi," he said, "Are you DS Fell?" Marci's sight blurred even more as a layer of tears that she would never let fall formed in front of her pupils. She blinked, trying desperately to clear them but that just brought the man into sharper focus, and she recognised him. _Oh,_ she recognised him. His face looked thinner and his eyes looked softer, his glasses more fashionable and his hair a little longer but _she recognised him._ She remembered seeing that face in the dock as her friends were dragged through the mill, one at a time, questioned about the very worst days and nights of their lives.

"It's great to meet you," James said happily, "Simon's told me all about you."

There was a strange silence that Simon tried to end.

"Marci?" he cleared his throat and tried again, "Marci?" this time she looked around at him, "\Marci, you OK?"

Marci stared at Simon, her brain bursting with a million and one words she was desperate to throw at him. Her face instantly greyed and her lips moved without a sound. How could she verbalise the way she was feeling? Nothing made sense, nothing at all. James Keats... _Jim_ Keats... the man responsible for death and destruction was standing in Simon's office... _her_ office too... as though nothing was wrong. Not to mention sleeping in Simon's bed. And she'd more or less told Simon to draw back the covers for him.

Shit.

 _Fuck!_

Jim fucking Keats; destroyer of walls, planter of bombs, bringer of death.

Eddie.

 _Boom!_

Marci visibly jolted on the sot as she flashed back to the blast that tore through a custody room and killed Eddie, the man she dallied too long with and had lost just as they were drawing closer together.

Nothing made sense. _Nothing_.

She stumbled back towards the door and shook her head.

"Actually," her voice crackled as she tried to speak. Her mouth was so dry that she could barely form her words, "I've got to get on with some work." She stumbled back another few steps, turning around and mumbling, "excuse me," before she started to stumble down the corridor, leaving Simon bewildered by her actions.

"Marci!" he called, "I thought you were working in _here_ this afternoon! Where are you going?!" He stared after her, not quite fast enough to chase after her. Her actions made no sense to Simon, his memory as far away from Eddie's death as possible. It hadn't even crossed his mind. Of all the people he'd thought would have a problem with James's arrival, Marci had been at the bottom of his list. He turned to James, open mouthed and confused. James looked worried and shocked, his eyes hurt by Marci's response.

"Did I do something to her?" his voice hitched.

"No," Simon shook his head, "No, James, I don't... I don't understand..." he shook his head and moved across the room to wrap his arm around James, "I don't know what's wrong with her, but I'll sort it out, I promise." He felt James pressing his head against his shoulder. Even though the circumstances were less than ideal that still felt so nice. Comforting. It had been such a long time since Simon had felt so reassured by someone's touch. He and James had already proven they could get through anything together. Marci's response was no exception. He would give Marci time and then try to straighten things out with her, and he had no doubt he would succeed. For now he had to concentrate on how far they'd come in the space of a day. It had been a very long time coming but Simon had everything he wanted and that wasn't a position he was used to.

He would appreciate every single day he shared with James. He'd learnt the hard way to never take a thing for granted. James wasn't the only one with a second chance. For Simon, life had just begun.

~xXx~

Marci wrestled her key into the locker and jiggled it wildly. It refused to budge no matter how much she tried to force it.

"Come _on,"_ she growled angrily. Her palms were sweating and her limbs shook as she finally forced it open and tried to get her emotions under control. James's face had brought back so much pain that she didn't have any idea how to handle it. She'd gotten off lightly at the hands of Keats compared to the others and he'd had little contact with her directly but he'd taken something away from her.

" _Eddie."_

She swallowed hard, feeling suddenly nauseous. That night was never far from her mind but she'd learned to live with it. The smell of the smoke, the din of the explosion, the burning flesh of the man she'd grown close to, never more so than on the day he'd died.

Her hand trembled as she reached into the locker and shuffled its contents. Socks fell out and her clean uniform became scrunched and messy in a moment but she didn't stop until her fingers clenched around something familiar and with a racing heart she pulled a small strip of foil dotted with tiny pills from behind her clothing.

 _For emergencies,_ she'd told herself.

It was reassuring to have them there. She'd not touched them for weeks but knowing they were there helped quell her cravings. It was like chocolate. If she knew there was a bar in her locker then she could go about her day, quite happily, never even touching it. But if there was none to be found then she could think of nothing else.

Those little white pills helped more than any bar of chocolate.

She grasped it and pushed two out into the palm of her hand. She closed her eyes and swallowed. It wasn't as though she was doing anything _wrong_. They weren't illegal. They were prescription. _Back twinges_. Oh _yeah_ , her back was _definitely_ hurting.

She stood there, waiting. Almost forcing one to happen. And sure enough, it did. There in her back, a slight pain, just enough to notice. They happened every now and then, she was used to them. But that's what they were for. Her back pain. T _wo tablets, four times a day._

She closed her eyes.

"Cut out the middle man," she whispered, pushing two more tablets into her hand.

Very carefully she placed them all on the back of her tongue and pulled a can of coke from the back of her locker, careful not to let them sit on her tongue for long enough to get stuck she opened the can, took a swig and washed them down fast. The bitter, sharp after-taste of codeine made her flinch so she took a few more gulps and swilled the last one around to wash the taste away., then quickly she slammed the locker door, turned the key and slid to the ground to catch her breath.

She could still see his face in front of her eyes... _Keats's..._ mixed with Eddie's every few seconds. They tore at her heart, but the pills would soon help with that. Just enough to take the edge away, just for the afternoon. Just to help her relax. To forget; maybe to sleep.

One slip would be alright. Just one, That's all. No more.

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the lockers, her ears ringing from all the words she couldn't say. By the time an air bubble shot up her chest and escaped in a loud burp from the coke she was already starting to feel numb all over. Not too much, just enough.

Enough to get by.

One lapse was OK.

It was OK, right?"

Marci slowly pulled herself back to her feet. Clutching her can of coke she walked slowly away to spend the afternoon hiding away in her new poky little office where she didn't have to think about anything or anyone and she could ignore the strange twinkling starlight overhead. It was just a side effect of the meds that she'd grown unused to, after all.

And once would be OK.

 **The End**

 **~xXx~**

 _ **A/N: Hey everyone :) Here again, at the end of another instalment in the series that's been going on for longer than the presidential campaign. Thank you so much for the reviews and messages, and for reading and generally supporting me and my special world. I'm sorry that I've not had chance to thank you all by name this time, but you know who you are. I love that I've made some good friends through writing here. And to think I wasn't going to even post that first part of Out of the Window, all those years ago.**_

 _ **I've started writing the next story already as I'm trying to write it for NaNoWriMo to get me back writing properly. So far so good; the first two chapters are done and dusted and will be up here in due course. If you're participating in NaNoWriMo look me up – I'm xXMisty (predictably!) and I'll follow your progress too!**_

 _ **The next story is one I've been looking forward to for a very long time. We come back to our roots, looking at the nature of Gene's world and how fragile its fabric can be. I hope you'll join me for the first part of Save Tonight which should be going up later or tomorrow :)**_


End file.
